


A Song of Shadows

by tealnymph24



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-20 11:53:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30004473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tealnymph24/pseuds/tealnymph24
Summary: Azriel and Gwyn find friendship, comfort and love in each other's arms while dealing with daily life, their own traumas and difficulties with their enemies.
Relationships: Azriel/Gwyneth Berdara
Comments: 26
Kudos: 103





	1. You Are My Friend, Right?

**Author's Note:**

> I am writing this purely because I want to write about all the random ideas for Gwynriel that are in my head. There is a loose plot beneath the romance, but this is mainly about the romance.
> 
> Also, many of the scenes will have two versions, one from Gwyn's and one from Azriel's pov, and will be labeled as such.
> 
> Lastly, I am currently transferring existing chapters from a different sight. So, the first few updates will come fairly quickly, but will slow down once I go back to writing new chapters.

Staring out at Velaris from the balcony at the House of Wind, Azriel let his mind wander. For once, he wasn’t restless. He felt calm, peaceful almost, and he couldn’t quite figure out why.

He was still working far too much and war was looming again. Yet the aching in his chest had eased, his sleepless nights had become fewer and his yearning for Elain, and even Mor, had become an infrequent part of his thoughts. What had caused this shift?

His musings were interrupted by the gentle sound of footsteps from the dining room. He turned just in time to see Gwyn emerge from the glass doors.

Of course, he should have guessed it would be her. His shadows never seemed to warn him when she was coming.

“Good evening,” he greeted her with a small smile. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she teased with a glimmer of amusement in her teal eyes. “It’s almost 1 a.m., we should probably both be sleeping.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled. “I’m sure Cassian and Nesta would agree with you.”

He watched as she made her way over to the edge of the balcony to stand by him. As she came to a stop, his shadows danced across the distance between them and settled themselves in her red-brown hair, as they often did lately.

He had stopped trying to keep his shadows from going near her weeks ago. She didn’t seem to mind (she had said as much), and they wouldn’t listen anyway. They seemed to like her too much to pay attention to his commands when she was present.

“Were you in the training ring again?” He asked, noting the leathers she was still wearing.

“Yes,” she admitted with a shy smile. “I can’t help myself. I want to perfect that dagger technique you showed me.”

He couldn’t stop himself from grinning at her. She was just as obsessive as he was about conquering any challenge that presented itself.

In the few months he had been training her, both alone and in groups, he’d learned they both shared a deep love of competition and strategy. It was something he admired about her.

“Don’t worry,” he encouraged her. “I’m sure you’ll get it in no time. In a few weeks, you probably won’t even need me to teach you anymore. You’ll have mastered everything.”

At that, her face unexpectedly clouded.

“Are you going to stop training with me?” She asked, a hint of disappointment in her tone.

“No, of course I’ll still train with you,” he quickly responded. “Someone needs to make sure your technique stays consistent, and we both know Cassian is too distracted to do it.”

Her face lit back up at his answer. Good, he thought. He hated seeing her the slightest bit unhappy.

“Nesta isn’t much better these days,” she playfully replied. “That reminds me, I have something for you.”

“You have something for me?” He questioned, taken aback by her statement. He was so rarely shocked, but she seemed to have a talent for it.

“Did I forget a holiday? I didn’t know we were exchanging gifts.” He couldn’t recall any summer holiday that required presents.

She laughed at his confusion, irreverent amusement dancing across her freckled face.

“Calm down, it’s just something I made for you,” she said. “I was going to slip it under your door, but I saw the lights on and knew you must be out here.”

He tried to hide his curiosity and nervousness as she slipped a hand into her pocket to retrieve the item.

She pulled out what appeared to be a delicately braided bracelet of blue, black and gold threads with a small charm in the middle.

Her hands shook slightly as she handed it to him, a faint blush appearing on her cheeks.

“It’s a friendship bracelet,” she explained, the words quickly tumbling out of her. “The colors are supposed to match your spirit. I know it doesn’t really go with your normal all black look. You don’t have to wear it. If you don’t want to, I mean. I just wanted to –. ”

“I’ll wear it,” he interrupted, already moving to tie it on his wrist. “It’s perfect. I… I don’t…you didn’t have to do this, Gwyn.”

A friendship bracelet. For him. He’d never had anyone make him anything like it. He suddenly couldn’t speak around the unexpected lump in his throat.

Her blush deepened as she watched him finish securing the bracelet. His shadows gently grazed her cheek as if they wanted to feel the warmth pooling there.

“Thank you,” he finally choked out, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. “I’m sorry I don’t have anything to give you in return.”

“It’s alright,” she quietly responded. “I wasn’t expecting anything, I just wanted to give it to you because you’re my friend. You are my friend, right?”

“Yes,” he said, a strange spark building deep in his chest. “Of course, I’m your friend.”

That is what they were, wasn’t it? Friends. After all, they had been training together for months, with long-winded debates frequently ensuing afterward. And he’d lost count of how many times she’d found him on this very balcony and they’d fallen into easy conversation about everything from astronomy to the ridiculous plots of her favorite romance novels. Gwyn had most certainly become his friend these last few months. A very good friend.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said, bringing him out of his reverie. “I should probably go to bed. I have to help Merrill in the morning, and she won’t be happy if I’m late.”

“Yes, you’re right,” he replied, his thoughts drifting back to the precious gift on his wrist. “I should probably try to get some rest too,”

“Well, good night,” she said as she moved towards the door, his shadows still dancing around her.

“Gwyn?” He called after her.

“Yes?”

“I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Me too, Azriel,” she smiled, happiness radiating from her. “Sleep well.”

“Good night, Gwyn,” he said as she disappeared into the house.

As her footsteps faded into nothing, he couldn’t help the smile that slowly spread across his face. Gwyn was his friend. The thought made his heart burst in a way he wasn’t quite sure he understood, but he didn’t care. He would explore the feeling later. For now, it was enough to just know…Gwyn was his friend.


	2. A Heated Training Session

Gwyn knew today’s training session was going to be brutal. Not because of the training itself. She had gotten used to the sore muscles and bruises months ago. No, today would be torturous because of the weather.

The midsummer heat had set in on Velaris in the last few weeks and it showed no signs of relenting today. She could already sense the oppressive warmth that awaited her in the training ring as she slowly made her way upstairs.

She would have much preferred to train at night when the sun gave way to the cool evening air. But while she had been continuing her nightly excursions to the training ring for practice, Azriel sometimes joining her, Cassian insisted she come to the morning sessions with the others.

As she approached the doors that led out, she mentally prepared herself to endure the next two hours of scorching sun. Stepping out into the bright day, she immediately froze. All thoughts of the weather rushing out of her mind.

Before her, standing by the far edge of the training area, was a shirtless Azriel. The witty, brooding male who had become her close friend these past months was entirely shirtless. Utterly bare from the waste up.

Why couldn’t she think straight suddenly? Why couldn’t she rip her eyes away from his torso? Sure, this was the first time she had seen him shirtless, but that shouldn’t matter. She had seen Cassian shirtless plenty of times in the past month and her brain had never become a puddle then.

She needed to get a grip. Azriel was her friend. There was no reason at all to be shocked by seeing him shirtless. After all, it was brutally hot outside.

“Hello,” Azriel greeted her, bringing her back to reality. “You were almost late. You’re not starting to slack on me, are you, Berdara?”

“I am right on time, thank you very much,” she testily responded as she strode toward him, desperately trying to keep her mind from wandering back to his bare chest.

“What are we doing today, anyway? I want to know how miserable I’m going to be.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like someone’s cranky.”

“I am not! I’m just hot.”

“Come on, a little heat never hurt anyone.”

“That’s not true. We could get heat stroke and die.”

“We’re fae. Heat stroke would take a lot longer than two hours to set in, let alone kill us. You’ll be fine.”

She only stuck her tongue out in response.

His shadows, seemingly amused by their interaction, danced towards her. As they gently settled around her hair, as they often did, her annoyance ebbed.

“I’m sorry for being irritable,” she finally said. “I just hate the summer. It’s too hot.

"I don’t like the summer either,” he replied, the ghost of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

Before she could respond, Cassian and Nesta emerged from inside. Their conversation cut short, she followed Azriel to the other side of the training ring.

“Alright, we’re splitting into two groups today,” Cassian called out. “Since it’s so damn hot, I don’t want everyone to try learning new skills today. Instead, we’ll practice ones you’ve already learned. Hand-to-hand techniques with Azriel or sword play with me. You choose.”

Not wanting to hold hot metal in her hands all morning, Gwyn decided in favor of hand-to-hand practice. She took her place among the group, situating herself at the front directly facing Azriel.

She copied his movements as he began the lesson. He led them through a series of exercises to warm-up, then moved onto the fighting techniques they had previously learned. Before long, she was drenched in sweat. All of them were.

As the lesson wore on, her mind drifted again. Back towards his impossibly toned abs. How did anyone get abs like that? She watched sweat drip down his chest, creating a trail leading to his v-line and below.

“Are you paying attention, Gwyneth?” His unexpected question pulled her out of her thoughts.

“You’re letting your elbows drop and your feet are sloppy,” he chided.

“I am not,” she protested, annoyance with herself creeping to the surface.

What was wrong with her? She was never like this during training. Never. She was always a model student. It had to be the heat ruining her focus and making her think such ridiculous things. It had to be.

Azriel continued the lesson, and she tried her best to stay focused. But her mind kept drifting. To his arms. His abs. His shoulders. His pecs. Everywhere but where she actually needed to concentrate.

She couldn’t focus. She was so miserably hot. It was like her skin was burning. And an unfamiliar warmth had spread between her legs that she refused to even consider.

Was she losing her mind? Azriel was her friend, dammit. She shouldn’t be looking at him like this, no matter how perfectly sculpted he was.

For the next 45 minutes, she waged a mental battle with herself, attempting to keep her mind on the lesson. But it was pointless. Azriel had to correct her no less than five more times, much to her humiliation.

She mentally rejoiced when he finally told them to take a break, giving her a reprieve.

“What’s got you so distracted, Gwyn,” he asked as everyone else dispersed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted, refusing to admit anything. “I am not distracted.”

He raised an eyebrow, but simply shrugged at her before striding toward the table laden with water and snacks.

She watched him walk away, sweat dripping down his muscular back. She had never noticed just how toned he was. All of him. There wasn’t an inch of him that wasn’t covered with muscle. At least the parts she could currently see. She wondered if his other half would be the same.

What the hell was wrong with her? Where had that thought come from? And why was she thinking about his back muscles? He was her friend. Friends don’t stare at each other’s abs, and friends definitely don’t get distracted by each other’s back muscles.

He was right. She was distracted today. It was this blasted heat, that’s what it was. It had to be the heat.

“You clearly need more personalized attention today,” she suddenly heard Azriel say from in front of her.

She blinked. “What?” She asked, wondering how she had missed him walking back to her.

Had he somehow known where her mind had drifted before? She couldn’t help the blush that crept up her cheek at the thought, praying her scent wasn’t affected by her ludicrous thoughts.

“Sparring, Gwyn.” Azriel said, amusement in every syllable. “I said, let’s spar because you clearly need more personalized attention.”

Sparring. He was talking about sparring.

“Oh, right, sparring,” she replied, understanding and relief flooding her. “Can’t we just end the training early today? This heat is unbearable.”

He rolled his eyes. “Your enemies won’t wait to attack until the weather is more to your liking.”

“Well, who said I want to spar with you? Maybe I want a more difficult opponent.”

That drew a snort from him. “Oh, please. I’ve taught you everything you know. You couldn’t beat me in a real fight on my worst day.”

“Oh, really? Wanna bet?”

He smirked. “Fine, but I get to set the terms.”

“Fine, but be careful with your terms, Az,” she quipped, forcing herself to match his confidence. “You don’t want to end up regretting it.”

“Alright, if you win, I’ll take you to that little restaurant by the river you liked so much,” he offered.

A thrill went through her. She knew exactly where he was referring to. It was a quiet little place near the edge of the Sidra, right where the river met the sea. He had convinced her to go there last month when she’d mentioned wanting to explore Velaris more. She had been nervous about going, but he had made it sound so lovely. And it had been. Absolutely magical. It would be so nice to go back.

“Okay, I’ll accept that,” she told him, excitement bubbling. “And what if you win?”

His hazel eyes sparkled with mirth. “If I win, then you have to accept Mor’s invitation to her birthday party next month.”

“But that’s at Rita’s!” She gasped out. “I can’t go to that. There will be so many people, I won’t know anyone, and and…”

“If I win, you have to. You’re the one who agreed to let me set the terms of our bet,” he taunted. “You said you could beat me, so you should have nothing to worry about.”

She huffed, refusing to back down. Instead, she strode toward the sparring ring.

“You’re on, Shadowsinger,” she called over her shoulder, determination settling in.

He chuckled as he obediently followed her, a smug smile appearing. She was going to win this ridiculous sparring match just for the sake of wiping that smugness off his face.

Once he had instructed the others to continue practicing among themselves, they both took their places.

“If we’re going to do this, I want it to be a real fight,” she said. “No mock-punches, no fake kicks. I want this to be a proper match.”

“Fair enough,” he responded, his face revealing nothing. “But you’re going to regret this, Berdara.”

“We’ll see about that,” she promised.

With that, they began circling each other like snakes, each of them preparing to strike. Looking for the first sign of weakness in their opponent.

She struck first, knowing he would never make the first move. She had played chess with him enough to know he liked playing black, which traditionally went second, because he enjoyed the challenge. Fighting would be no different.

He blocked her blow, easily pivoting to avoid it. She knew it wouldn’t be that easy. She would have to outsmart him instead of out maneuvering him. She laid out her plan.

She would let him think he had the upper hand, give him confidence. Convince him she was getting tired. She knew he got sloppy when he thought he was winning. He did it on purpose. He hated winning too easily. He didn’t just want the challenge, he needed it.

So, she would give him one. Only he wouldn’t know what the challenge was. She knew he could end it quickly, but he wouldn’t. He was too confident; he would draw it out. Her only chance of winning would be when he started letting his guard slip. When he inevitably got bored and wanted to make things more interesting. She just had to wait.

So, she kept attacking, knowing he would keep blocking. It was like a perfectly choreographed dance. She struck, he parried. Neither one ever gaining the upper hand, the sun still beating down from above.

She just had to stay focused. Not let herself pay attention to his rippling biceps. His broad shoulders shining with sweat. His tensed abdominal muscles. What would those perfect muscles feel like if she touched them? What would his strong body feel like against hers?

What the hell was wrong with her? What was she thinking? She needed to stay focused but all she could think of were his stupid biceps and his impossibly perfect abs. She hated those abs. And she hated that stupid v-line. Males should only have v-line in books.

She should blame this all on Emerie and Nesta. It would be their fault if she lost this fight. They were the ones who got her into those smutty books. It was their fault she was thinking about such ludicrous things. Them and this blasted heat!

The fight dragged on, much to her annoyance. Azriel was toying with her, she was sure of it. She needed to end this. He had to think she was tired for her plan to work, but soon she would actually be tired.

She decided to make a move to lure him in. To play his own game. Deliberately leave holes in her defense. It was a risk, but it would be worth it if it worked.

She continued their dance, striking and letting him parry, but she left her abdomen open. A rookie mistake, but hopefully he would think she was just getting sloppy. She just needed him to take the obvious blow to her stomach. It would knock her to the ground, but it would give her the opening she needed.

He took the bait. His well-aimed blow took her breath away and knocked her flat on her back. She let him think she was almost finished, luring him in closer.

Again, he took the bait. He moved to pin her, but she swung out with her legs. He didn’t have time to pivot before she collided with his ankles, sending him tumbling to the ground next to her.

She twisted toward him as he fell on his back. Before he could recover from the fall, she quickly leaped on top of him, pinning him between her legs.

His arms shot out, aiming for her hips.

She saw the opening faster than he could react. He had fallen into her trap, exactly as she had planned. It was too late for him to correct his mistake. She was already drawing her fist back for the final blow.

This was it. She only had this one moment to strike. His upper body was momentarily unguarded, but it would only be open for a second. Not even long enough to blink.

As realization flooded his face, her fist connected with his jaw. Every ounce of her strength pounding into the vulnerable corner of his jawbone - just like he had taught her.

The other side of his face collided with the dirt as the force of the punch knocked him to the side. His hands stopped their maneuvers toward her, going to his jaw instead.

He was down. Defeated. She had won.

She only had a moment of excitement and shock before the reality of how hard she had struck him set in.

“Owwww,” he groaned, pain evident in his voice.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” She gasped, panic setting in. “I didn’t know I could hit that hard, I’m so sorry!”

She quickly leaned forward to examine his jaw, one hand on his chest to steady herself and the other reaching toward him. He grimaced at her touch but allowed it.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, despite the bruise already blooming where her fist had made contact. “I think my ego is more injured than my face.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated as she gently examined the injury, silently praying she had not broken his jaw.

“Gwyn. I’m fine. Really,” he insisted. “You don’t need to apologize, I promise.”

“Okay,” she quietly conceded, finally meeting his stare.

She held his gaze, unsure why she suddenly felt so nervous. His eyes darkened and his shadows swirled around them both.

Something in the air between them shifted, sending a shiver down her spine. She knew should look away, but she was frozen in the moment. She was lost in his dark gaze, the feeling of his body below hers shutting out all logic and reason. That damn warmth between her legs spreading, a steady throbbing now pulsing through her. She prayed Azriel didn’t notice.

A booming laugh echoed across the training area, bringing them both back to the present.

“I never thought I’d see Azriel get his ass handed to him,” Cassian laughed. “Well done, Gwyn.”

The realization that they had an audience hit her like a brick. She became all too aware of the fact that she was still straddling him, her hand resting on his muscled stomach. She swiftly moved to stand up, offering him a hand in the process.

They both quietly brushed themselves off. She couldn’t look at him, not with the images of him beneath her still flashing through her mind. Not with the aching in her core still there.

“How about we call it a day?” Azriel finally spoke, running a scarred hand through his dark hair. “I think you’ve earned it.”

If she didn’t know better, she would have thought he seemed nervous. She brushed the idea away.

“Okay, if you say so,” she agreed, unable to focus completely. The feeling of his skin was still roaring in her brain.

“I guess I have to accept Mor’s invitation,” she said, desperate to think of anything normal.

“If you want to,” he replied, confusion on his face. “But you won. Fair and square. You don’t have to accept anything.”

She finally met his gaze and blinked. He was right, she had won. She had almost forgotten.

“Well, as long as you hold up your end of the bargain, I can at least consider Mor’s offer.”

“It’s your choice. I won’t force you. But if you do want to go, I’ll be there the whole night. You could hang out with me if you want.”

The words seemed to tumble out of his mouth. He unnecessarily ran a hand through his hair again. Almost like he was as flustered as she was.

Was she going crazy or had she also seen faint color staining his cheeks? Surely it was just the heat from fighting, she assured herself.

“I’ll think about it,” she offered, still trying to quiet her mind. She needed to escape. She needed to calm the ridiculous stream of thoughts rushing through her head. She needed to stop thinking about how he had looked beneath her. How it had felt to have him between her legs. How wonderful his skin had felt. Dammit! She really was losing her mind.

She turned to leave, but he caught her by the shoulder, stopping her in her tracks.

“How about I meet you on the balcony at 7?” He asked, forcing her mind to focus for a moment.

“For what?”

“Dinner”

“Oh, right. Dinner”

Disappointment clouded his features. “Unless you don’t want to go.”

“Of course I want to go,” she protested. “I won, so you owe me.”

“Okay, then I’ll meet you at 7?” He asked again, seeking her confirmation.

“I’ll see you at 7,” she promised, unable to stop her smile at his persistence in trying to gain her consent. He never did anything without her explicitly saying she was okay with it. She loved that about him.

Before he could stop her again, she turned out of his reach to head inside. She needed to escape before her mind drifted below his neck again. What was wrong with her?

“Gwyn,” he called, just before she reached the doors to the stairwell.

She turned to look at him, waiting. She tried to avoid looking at his exposed body again but failed miserably.

“You fought well today,” he complimented her. “Good job.”

Her chest fluttered. He never gave compliments in training. Never. Maybe the heat was going to his head too.

“Thank you,” she smiled, pride flowing through her, pulling her back to reality. She had done it. She had beat him. And he had complimented her on it. What a strange day it was turning into.

She allowed herself one last look at him before heading into the stairwell. Only it wasn’t his muscled arms, or chest or abs that left her breathless this time. It was the look on his face as he gazed after her that had her mind reeling.

He was drenched in sweat with a huge bruise across his jaw, yet she couldn’t help but notice how happy and relaxed he looked. All traces of the sadness she sometimes saw in him were gone, replaced with a gentle serenity. His eyes were soft, and his shadows were practically dancing around him.

The image burned into her mind; she couldn’t stop smiling as she made her way down to the library.

She liked seeing her friend so happy. But why did the word friend suddenly not feel right? She couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them today. 

But she wouldn’t let herself think about it. She wanted to enjoy every moment of dinner tonight and thinking about how she had felt during training would just further distract her.

It was probably just the heat going to her head anyway. It had to be. All of these insane thoughts were just a result of being too hot.

A cold bath would certainly help, she thought. She would simply take a cold, cold bath…


	3. Azriel POV - A Heated Training Session

It was so fucking hot, Azriel thought as he stripped off his shirt. Giggles erupted from several of the young priestesses who had already arrived for training.

Azriel didn’t care. He was sick of this heat. Besides, he already had enough trouble focusing during training. He didn’t need to make it worse.

Ever since Gwyn had given him the friendship bracelet that now permanently rested on his wrist, he had started realizing he had feelings for her. It started out small but had grown to the point that she was all he could think about. She drowned out all thoughts and feelings he had ever had for any other female. She was everything. It made him happy. Beyond happy.

But he couldn’t, wouldn’t, try to start anything with her. Her friendship was too precious. He would wait until she made a move first. And if she didn’t, then he would content himself with being her friend.

But training had become almost unbearable. He loved training with Gwyn but seeing her in leathers made his body ache with desire. So, there was no way he was going to suffer more than necessary by keeping his shirt on today.

Just then, the doors to the training area swung open and out came Gwyn. She looked perfect, as usual. She was so damn beautiful.

He watched her step out, then freeze. She was looking straight at him, but she seemed to have lost all sense of reality. Had the sun disoriented her? He tried getting his shadows to find out, but they ignored him. They never told him anything about Gwyn; they wanted him to work for it.

“Hello,” he called over to her, hoping to bring her back to the present. “You were almost late. You’re not starting to slack on me, are you, Berdara?”

“I am right on time, thank you very much,” she testily responded as she strode toward him. He let his eyes slowly roam over her gorgeous legs. He wanted those legs wrapped around him.

“What are we doing today, anyway?” She asked as she stopped in front of him. “I want to know how miserable I’m going to be.”

He chuckled. “Sounds like someone’s cranky.”

“I am not! I’m just hot.”

“Come on, a little heat never hurt anyone.”

“That’s not true. We could get heat stroke and die.”

“We’re fae. Heat stroke would take a lot longer than two hours to set in, let alone kill us. You’ll be fine.”

She only stuck her tongue out in response.

His shadows, surprisingly patient today, had waited to go over to her until now. As they gently settled around her hair, he saw her annoyance ebb.

“I’m sorry for being irritable,” she finally said. “I just hate the summer. It’s too hot.

"I don’t like the summer either,” he replied, the ghost of a smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

Before he could say anything else, Cassian and Nesta emerged from inside. Their conversation cut short, he walked with Gwyn to the other side of the training ring.

“Alright, we’re splitting into two groups today,” Cassian called out. “Since it’s so damn hot, I don’t want everyone to try learning new skills today. Instead, we’ll practice ones you’ve already learned. Hand-to-hand techniques with Azriel or sword play with me. You choose.”

Hoping Gwyn would follow, Azriel moved toward his designated area. To his satisfaction, she joined his group. Positioning herself directly in front of him. He wasn’t sure if that made him excited or nervous. He would have an excellent view of her, but he ran the risk of his body reacting a bit too noticeably.

As he began the lesson, she copied his movements. He led them through a series of exercises to warm-up, then moved onto the fighting techniques they had previously learned. Before long, he was drenched in sweat. All of them were.

As he instructed the group, he tried not to look too pointedly at Gwyn. She was always stunning, but especially so when training. Always so focused, so determined. Not to mention the added benefit of training leathers not hiding a thing. Not one damn thing. He could see every luscious curve of her body.

As the lesson wore on, a few of his shadows that had settled around Gwyn unexpectedly drifted back to him to whisper in his ear. _The lovely bird seems nervous and her scent is strange,_ they told him, using their pet name for her.

Worry filled him. Was something wrong? He couldn’t smell her from this position. His shadows were reluctant to tell him what had changed in her scent, but he promised them it would be kept a secret. After a moment, they gave in.

_Her scent is full of arousal. For you._

His mind went utterly still. He shouldn’t have made his shadows tell him. What she was feeling was private. He shouldn’t know. Yet he also couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy. Could this mean she felt the same as him?

It didn’t matter, at least not at the moment. He might be upwind from her, but he was not the only one here. She would be teased mercilessly if Cassian, or Nesta for that matter, caught her scent.

He decided to try drawing her out of whatever thoughts were causing the shift. He might be excited by the idea of her thinking about him, but he didn’t want her to get teased for it.

“Are you paying attention, Gwyneth?” He asked, pretending to correct her. “You’re letting your elbows drop and your feet are sloppy.”

“I am not,” she protested. Good. Annoyance might override her distraction.

He went back to the lesson, stopping every so often to correct Gwyn for mistakes she wasn’t making. His shadows kept flitting back to him, telling him when her scent was getting too strong. He was desperately trying to help her keep it under control.

The problem was that it required his full attention be on her, which made his own scent become a risk. What if she scented _his_ arousal? He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, but he also couldn’t help it.

Covered in sweat, a flush creeping up her neck, she looked incredible. He wanted to taste her. To coax her full lips open with his own. Feel her skin against his. Strip those tight leathers off of her inch by glorious inch. He wanted to slowly learn exactly what made that beautiful mouth moan.

He knew he would have to go slow with her if she ever allowed him near her like that, but he would do so gladly. She deserved someone who would go slow, who would let her have control when she needed it. After what she had gone through, it would take time before she was fully comfortable being with someone. But he was willing to walk that journey with her. It would be his honor if she wanted that with him.

After 45 minutes, he decided enough was enough. His thoughts were driving him crazy and she seemed to be struggling too. He needed to think of something else. He told everyone to take a break.

“What’s got you so distracted, Gwyn,” he asked as everyone dispersed. He had to act like he didn’t already know.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she insisted. “I am not distracted.”

He raised an eyebrow at her but didn’t push. He already knew the answer. He shrugged at her before striding toward the table laden with water and snacks.

He could feel her watching him. He didn’t need his shadows to tell her she was still thinking about him. He was downwind now; he could smell her. The scent hit him like an arrow straight to his most sensitive areas. All logic and reason left his body. Her scent was normally pleasing to him, but this was different. Laced with her arousal – arousal for him – her scent was intoxicating.

Now he was the one losing focus. He needed to get this under control. He made his plan, then strode back to her.

“Let’s spar, Gwyn,” he said as he approached. “You clearly need more personalized attention today.”

She blinked. “What?”

He allowed himself a small smile at the blush that crept up her cheeks. He couldn’t help but find some amusement in the situation. She was finally as distracted in training as he normally was.

“Sparring, Gwyn.” He said again. “I said, let’s spar because you clearly need more personalized attention.”

He figured sparring would force her to be more focused, and it might help hide her apparent arousal from the rest of the group.

“Oh, right, sparring,” she replied, her brow furrowing. “Can’t we just end the training early today? This heat is unbearable.”

He rolled his eyes. “Your enemies won’t wait to attack until the weather is more to your liking.”

“Well, who said I want to spar with you? Maybe I want a more difficult opponent.”

He snorted. His plan was working. “Oh, please. I’ve taught you everything you know. You couldn’t beat me in a real fight on my worst day.”

“Oh, really? Wanna bet?”

He smirked. “Fine, but I get to set the terms.”

“Fine, but be careful with your terms, Az,“ she quipped, matching his confidence. "You don’t want to end up regretting it.”

“Alright, if you win, I’ll take you to that little restaurant by the river you liked so much,” he offered.

Her eyes lit up at the offer, as he knew they would. He had taken her to his favorite restaurant on the edge of the Sidra about a month ago and she had loved it. She had been nervous about going, but he had convinced her she would enjoy herself. And she had. They both had. Taking her back was the least he could do for causing all of this.

"Okay, I’ll accept that,” she told him, excitement erasing her irritation. “And what if you win?”

He wanted her determined to win, so he decided to toy with her a little. “If I win, then you have to accept Mor’s invitation to her birthday party next month.”

“But that’s at Rita’s!” She gasped out. “I can’t go to that. There will be so many people, I won’t know anyone, and and…”

“If I win, you have to. You’re the one who agreed to let me set the terms of our bet,” he taunted “You said you could beat me, so you should have nothing to worry about.”

She huffed, taking the bait.

“You’re on, Shadowsinger,” she called over her shoulder, as she strode to the sparring ring.

He chuckled as he obediently followed her, satisfied he had won. Once he had instructed the others to continue practicing among themselves, they both took their places.

“If we’re going to do this, I want it to be a real fight,” she said. “No mock-punches, no fake kicks. I want this to be a proper match.”

“Fair enough,” he responded, not revealing anything. “But you’re going to regret this, Berdara.”

“We’ll see about that,” she promised.

With that, they began circling each other like snakes, each of them preparing to strike. Looking for the first sign of weakness in their opponent.

She struck first, as he expected her to. He knew that she was aware of how he fought, that he didn’t like moving first. Besides, he wasn’t worried about winning this match. He only cared about keeping her away from everyone else so she could be as lost in her thoughts as she wanted to be.

He blocked her blow, easily pivoting to avoid it. Just because he didn’t care about winning, didn’t mean he was going to make this easy on her. No, it just meant that he could let his mind wander a little bit too.

She was like a beautiful dagger when she fought. Pointed and focused, unassuming but dangerous. All sloping curves and sharp angles. He couldn’t take is eyes off her.

Her skin looked so warm from the scorching heat and sparring. He wanted to feel it for himself. To help her out of her stifling leathers. He wondered what sounds she would make if he slowly, gently ran Truth-Teller’s cold blade down her bare skin, its hilt across her most sensitive areas.

She kept attacking and he kept blocking. It was like a perfectly choreographed dance. She struck, he parried. Neither one ever gaining the upper hand, the sun still beating down from above.

He let his mind drift again, curious what thoughts were running through her head. He assumed it was his shirtless appearance that had frazzled her to begin with, but where had her mind wandered now? Her scent was still thick with arousal. His pants grew painfully tight.

He wanted her. All of her. He wanted to taste her on his tongue. He wanted to feel her body pressed against his, nothing between them. To trace every inch of her with his hands, his mouth. He wanted her to let him teach her all that he knew of pleasure. It would be an honor and a joy to explore that with her if she let him.

The fight went on and he could tell she was growing annoyed. He had not made a move to win. It was confusing her. Suddenly, she left her abdomen open. A rookie mistake, probably to lure him in for the obvious shot. But what was her plan after that? Surely, she didn’t want him to win.

He took the bait, curiosity getting the best of him. His well-aimed blow knocked her flat on her back. He moved to pin her, but she swung out with her legs. He didn’t have time to pivot before she collided with his ankles, sending him tumbling to the ground next to her.

She twisted toward him as he fell on his back. Before he could recover from the fall, she leaped on top of him, pinning him between her legs. His arms shot out, aiming for her hips.

That’s when he saw it. The opening he had just given her. He had walked into her trap like a moth to the flame. It was too late for him to correct his mistake. She was already drawing her fist back for the final blow.

As realization flooded him, her fist connected with his jaw. The force of the blow pounded into the vulnerable corner of his jawbone - just like he had taught her.

The other side of his face collided with the dirt as the force of the punch knocked him to the side. His hands stopped their maneuvers toward her, going to his face instead.

He was down. Defeated. She had won.

“Owwww,” he groaned, too shocked to hide the pain that was shooting through his face.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” She gasped, sounding oddly panicked. “I didn’t know I could hit that hard, I’m so sorry!”

She leaned forward to examine him, putting one hand on his bare chest and the other reaching toward his jaw. He grimaced at her touch but allowed it. The feeling of her gentle hands almost overriding the pain.

“I’m fine,” he reassured her, despite the bruise already blooming where her fist had made contact. “I think my ego is more injured than my face.”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated as she gently examined the injury. He marveled at her for a moment. She had just struck him harder than he would have thought possible, yet here she was tending to his injury. She was an enigma.

“Gwyn. I’m fine. Really,” he reassured her. “You don’t need to apologize, I promise.”

“Okay,” she quietly conceded, finally meeting his stare. His mind went still. The look in her eyes was not like any he had ever seen from her. There was something more there.

Something between them had shifted, he was sure of it. The thought sent his heart racing. He should look away, let her escape his gaze, but he was frozen in the moment. Afraid to move. Not only because of the joy he felt as she looked at him, but because of the growing ache she was causing throughout his entire body. Happiness and arousal intermingled, rendering him incapable of action.

She was still straddling him with her hands resting on his chest. He could feel the warmth between her legs. It was driving him insane. One wrong move and she would notice the increasing hardness beneath her. He needed her to move, but he couldn’t find the will to turn away from her. He was barely resisting the urge to pull her hips closer to him. To grant them both the friction their bodies were craving.

A booming laugh echoed across the training area, bringing them back to the present.

“I never thought I’d see Azriel get his ass handed to him,” Cassian laughed. “Well done, Gwyn.”

The realization that they had an audience hit him like a brick. He needed to get a grip. Luckily, she finally moved to stand up, offering him a hand in the process.

They both quietly brushed themselves off. Not looking at each other. He couldn’t look at her, not with the images of her straddling him still flashing through his mind. Not with the lingering feeling of her throbbing core still a steady pulse through his body.

“How about we call it a day?” Azriel finally spoke, running a scarred hand through his hair, trying to calm himself. “I think you’ve earned it.”

He was frazzled, worried. What if he had scared her? What if she was uncomfortable? He would never forgive himself.

“Okay, if you say so,” she agreed. “I guess I have to accept Mor’s invitation.”

"If you want to,” he replied, confused. “But you won. Fair and square. You don’t have to accept anything.”

She met his gaze and blinked, almost like she was shocked. Maybe she was still flustered. He certainly was. He couldn’t think straight. The feeling of her body pressed against his was too fresh.

“Well, as long as you hold up your end of the bargain, I can at least consider Mor’s offer.”

“It’s your choice. I won’t force you. But if you do want to go, I’ll be there the whole night. You could hang out with me if you want.”

He couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out. Her words had sent a rush of hope through him. Maybe she was just feeling the same things he was. He ran a hand through his hair again, trying not to show his excitement.

“I’ll think about it,” she offered.

She turned to leave, but he caught her by the shoulder, stopping her in her tracks. He still owed her.

“How about I meet you on the balcony at 7?” He asked, trying not to think of how their bodies had fit so perfectly together. He failed miserably.

“For what?”

“Dinner”

“Oh, right. Dinner”

Shit! Did she not want to go? Maybe she _was_ uncomfortable.

“Unless you don’t want to go.”

“Of course I want to go,” she protested. “I won, so you owe me.”

“Okay, then I’ll meet you at 7?” He asked again, seeking her confirmation. He wanted to make sure she was comfortable spending time with him after today.

“I’ll see you at 7,” she promised, suddenly smiling at him. Any worry he felt leaving him. That gorgeous smile made everything okay.

Before he could respond, she moved toward the doors to the stairwell.

“Gwyn,” he called.

She turned to look at him, waiting. He noted that her eyes lingered on his bare chest. He couldn’t stop his satisfaction at knowing she hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

“You fought well today,” he complimented her, not letting his male pride show. “Good job.”

“Thank you,” she smiled brightly, her eyes positively sparkling. Her happiness was enough to make his heart burst.

He let himself watch as she turned back to the doors. She was so damn beautiful. Could he really be so lucky? Could she really have feelings for him? The lingering pain in his jaw was nothing compared to the bliss the thought brought him.

She disappeared into the stairwell just as Cassian clapped him on the shoulder.

“Well, that was quite an exciting training session,” Cassian said, mischief dancing in eyes. “Wasn’t it, Az?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Cas,” he responded, still too happy to understand Cassian’s meaning.

“Oh, I think you do,” Cassian laughed, starting to move away. “I can smell it all over you, Brother. At the rate you two were going, I was worried you were going to ravish her right in the middle of the sparring ring.”

Azriel was too shocked to defend himself. He had thought he had kept his, and Gwyn’s, arousal hidden. Apparently, he was wrong. Maybe he should take a cold bath before dinner to make sure his scent went back to normal. Yes, a very cold bath would help…


	4. Questions and Answers

After two hours of Mor and Nesta poking and prodding her, Gwyn was finally ready to meet Azriel for dinner.

The two females had ambushed her on her way out of the library a few hours ago, Nesta having told Mor about Gwyn’s dinner plans. They had then proceeded to coerce her into letting them get her ready. She had initially been against the idea but was now in awe of their handy work.

They had dressed her in a midnight blue dress made of the softest silk imaginable. It was tightly fitted throughout the bodice before floating out from her waist to just below her knees; with thin straps over her shoulders to hold everything in place. Simple, but elegant.

Then they had worked their magic on her normally pin straight hair, somehow coaxing it into curls that fell softly around her shoulders. They had finished her off with a dusting of cosmetics that brought out her eyes and made her mouth look even fuller.

Seeing herself in the mirror had made her blush. She was so used to her priestess robes and training leathers that she almost had not recognized herself. As she made her way to the balcony at the House of Wind, she silently worried Azriel might think she had overdressed.

She was so nervous about tonight. Ever since training this morning, she couldn’t shake the butterflies in her stomach. But she would not let herself think of that now. She wanted to be fully in the present, enjoying every second.

She took one last deep breath before walking out to the balcony where Azriel was waiting. He was standing by the edge, dressed elegantly in a black tunic and matching pants. He looked breathtakingly handsome.

He turned at the sound of her approach, but quickly stopped. She watched his throat bob once, then twice.

“Hello, Azriel,” she greeted him shyly, not sure why her hands were shaking.

“Good evening,” he quietly responded, sounding breathless. It made her knees tremble. “You look beautiful, Gwyn.”

“Thank you,” she blushed. The fluttering in her stomach returned as his shadows made their way over to her, softly greeting her with a graze to her cheek before settling around her hair.

“Shall we?” He asked, eyes sparkling. He held out his arms, preparing to winnow them to the restaurant.

She nodded, silently allowing him to lift her into his arms so he could fly just past the house’s wards before winnowing. Within a few moments, she was back on her feet, standing outside of the restaurant.

It was a lovely little seaside style building with a large patio seating area tucked by the banks of the Sidra. Its location offered the perfect spot to watch the river flowing into the sea while enjoying the most perfect chocolate torte and wine she had ever tasted. And to top it all off, a live band was stationed by the doors that led between the patio area and the inside dining.

As the gentle music from the band greeted her, Azriel led her onto the patio to a table in the corner. It was the same place they had sat last time. With the sea to their back, the river on one side, the band to the other and Velaris sprawling out before them; it was the ideal vantage point.

Azriel held her chair out for her just as the owner of the restaurant came over to greet them. He had explained to her last time that he had become friends with the owner over the years due to his frequent visits to this place.

Because of this, Azriel apparently never ordered, instead letting the owner decide what they wanted him to try. His favorite table was also always left open, awaiting his next visit. It had shocked her the first time, but now she was happy to just go with it.

As Azriel took his seat, they fell into an easy conversation. It was always like this with him. Everything always felt natural. He always made her feel comfortable and safe. Even when they were sparring, she never worried that he would hurt her. She still struggled to be around most other males, but never him.

She knew she should just admit to herself that she was starting to have feelings for him beyond friendship, but she was scared to ruin the peaceful harmony between them. Too terrified of losing his friendship. The thought was unbearable.

And it would only make things complicated if she tried explaining her confusing emotions to him. He had become her best friend; she did not want to risk that. Besides, just because she was drawn to him in ways she didn’t understand, he might not feel the same.

The food and wine began flowing out of the kitchen then, distracting her from her thoughts and pausing the debate they were having about chess strategies.

As the evening continued, they ate and laughed and talked; too lost in each other to even notice the time passing. The music of the restaurant making even silent moments perfect. She had never felt so wonderful, so alive. She wanted this night to go on forever.

As they finished the last of their chocolate torte, the owner remembering her fondness for it, she sat back in her chair and sighed happily.

“What?” Azriel asked with a smile at her contented sigh, watching her intently.

He had scooted close enough throughout dinner that she could now see the gold flecks in his eyes. Their legs occasionally grazing each other under the table. They were almost on the same side of the table now, sitting much closer then was entirely appropriate for friends. She probably should have moved away, but she simply did not want to.

“Nothing,” she smiled back. “I’m just happy. That’s all.”

“Good,” he replied as the waiter arrived to refill their wine glasses and clear the plates.

They both turned silent for a while, content to just sit and listen to the music. He turned away from her to watch the musicians, but casually draped an arm across the back of her chair. She leaned into it, unable to stop herself. It felt so natural. So right.

Instead of watching the band, she took the opportunity to study him. He looked so peaceful. It took her breath away.

It was rare to see him this relaxed. He was normally utterly controlled, never letting people truly see him. But she had learned to understand the subtle indicators of his emotions, his little tells. And tonight, she knew he was happy, as happy as she was. Her heart swelled.

She continued watching him as he slowly lost himself in the music. His eyes were almost glazed as he silently observed the musicians, his free hand quietly tapping on the table. He was perfectly in time with the tune. She knew he could sing; she had asked him months ago, but now she wondered if he could play too.

Without thinking, she reached out and gently took his hand in both of hers. He suddenly gripped her wrist, his face whipping toward her. She froze, worried she had crossed a line.

He stared at her for a long moment, eyes blazing, before softening again. She waited a second longer before he slowly released his grasp and laid his hand in hers.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized in a low voice, a blush staining his cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” she assured him. “I should have asked first. I didn’t mean to shock you.”

He ducked his head, not meeting her gaze.

“It’s fine. I’m just not used to anyone grabbing my hands like that.”

“Are you comfortable with me touching your hands?” She asked, seeking his consent. She knew he would do the same for her. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“No, it’s fine,” he quickly responded, his blush deepening. “Really, Gwyn. I don’t mind.”

Turning back to their now tangled hands, she gently ran her fingers along his. She felt him shudder at her touch. He seemed so nervous.

“Do you play? She asked him, studying his long fingers. "Piano, I mean. Do you play the piano?”

“Yes,” he responded, sounding surprisingly unsure of himself. She wasn’t used to seeing this soft, hesitant side of him. It made her stomach flutter, her own cheeks now tinged with pink.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, continuing her slow examination. He had such beautiful hands. “How come I’ve never heard you playing at the House of Wind? There are several pianos.”

“I never use the pianos in the common areas, only the one in the back of the house,” he explained, the words coming out clipped. “And I usually have my shadows muffle the sound. So it doesn’t bother anyone.”

His answer caught her off guard. She had always thought of him as confident in everything, yet he seemed reluctant to even discuss this with her.

“Why would anyone be bothered?” She blurted, confused. “I’m sure you play beautifully.”

At his silence, she looked at him, pausing her exploration of his hand. He was looking at the table, avoiding her gaze.

“Azriel, I’m just curious,” she said, unsure why he would not look at her. “Why would anyone be bothered by your music?”

He still did not move. So she continued, unable to stop herself from trying to understand him.

“I’m sure Cassian and Nesta wouldn’t mind. Nesta loves music, she would probably enjoy hearing you play. I know I would.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, meeting her stare at last. Shockingly, he left his hand in hers as he finally spoke.

“I don’t let people hear me play because I don’t want them to judge how good or bad I am,” he said, his voice unsteady and his shadows deepening. “Music is a haven, a place where I don’t have to put on a mask. I can poor my thoughts and feelings into a song instead of constantly hiding them. I just don’t want someone judging me for what they hear.”

Now it was her turn to stare at the table. Shame and guilt washed over her. She dropped his hand as her face turned red. Her own hands fell limply on the table.

She should not have pushed him. She should have known better. She wasn’t comfortable singing around most people either. The flutter in her stomach she had felt earlier was now a pit.

She felt him move his arm away from the back of her chair. He was going to pull away, she knew it. She had pushed him too far.

Just when she had decided she had ruined the evening; she felt a scarred hand gently tuck her hair behind her ear. She lifted her head in shock and almost collided with his face. He had leaned close enough that their breaths almost mingled.

“Gwyn, I’m sorry,” he softly apologized, sincerity etched on his features. “I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m just not used to someone asking me things like that.”

“It’s my fault,” she argued as his shadows danced around her. “I ask too many questions.”

“No, don’t say that,” he insisted, reaching out to gently take her hands in his, holding her there. “I like your questions. You just shock me sometimes, that’s all. I’m not used to talking about myself.”

She granted him a small smile. Her mind going fuzzy as he began caressing the backs of her hands with his thumbs.

“I’m not good at discussing myself either,” she confessed, lost in the feeling of his lazy strokes across her skin. How could such a simple touch make her lose focus so easily?

He chuckled, bringing her back to the conversation. “We’ve discussed every topic imaginable, yet we don’t really talk about ourselves. Do we?”

“No, we really don’t,” she agreed, an idea forming. “But maybe we could change that.”

“Oh?”

“We could make it a game of sorts.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Okay, what if we turn personal questions - questions that we’re too scared to ask normally - into a game? We could take turns. It would be a question for a question.”

“Hmmm, I like that idea,” he said, offering her a crooked smile. “But there needs to be other rules. What if one of us doesn’t want to answer?

"Then that person doesn’t get to ask a question until they do.”

“That’s fair.”

“And if we want to make sure the other one knows it’s part of the game, we can just say ‘that was a question’ after we ask something.”

“You’ve clearly thought this through” he said with a hint of amusement, his shadows floating between then like smoke.

“Yes, I have,” she confirmed, happy he seemed open to her idea. “And it’s subtle enough that no one would notice if we asked a question around other people.”

“Clever. I like it.”

“Thank you,” she grinned at his compliment, excitement building. “So, do you agree to the game then?”

He nodded, still looking at her with admiration. She couldn’t stop herself from blushing again.

“Okay, it’s your turn then,” she instructed him, nervous now. “We can count my question about your music as my first turn.”

“Are you sure?”

She nodded. It was only fair.

“I can ask anything, right? And you have to answer, or you don’t get another turn?”

She nodded once more, confirming the rules.

“Okay, what’s your favorite color?”

“Blue,” she laughed at his ridiculous question. “But that is hardly a personal question, Az. I want this to be fair. Ask something else.”

He laughed, but quickly turned serious.

“I have a question I want to ask, but I think it will make you uncomfortable.”

“That is kind of the point,” she pushed, steeling herself for whatever he was going to ask. “We’re supposed to be asking uncomfortable questions.”

“Are you sure?” He pressed, his brow furrowing. “You won’t be mad?”

“I’m sure,” she confidently replied. “I won’t be mad. Ask me anything.”

“Okay,” he accepted her response, his face turning unreadable.

Then he quirked his head, studying her. She held his gaze, trying not to focus on his hands still firmly holding hers. But then he unexpectedly started chewing on his bottom lip. The sight made her heart race. He was completely distracting her again and he wasn’t even shirtless this time. She was in so much trouble. Deep, deep trouble.

He was silent for a moment longer, but finally asked, “What distracted you so much in training today?”

Gwyn instantly turned a deep shade of crimson at Azriel’s question. He couldn’t possibly know what she had been thinking about this morning. Could he? His face revealed nothing, but the question was too specific. Too pointed. It brought all her memories from today rushing to the surface.

At the vivid images dancing through her head, she turned hot all over. Now was not the time to be thinking of his firm body between her legs. Not when he was still looking at her, a small smirk appearing on his lips. She couldn’t answer the question. She could barely think.

Had his shadows told him what had been on her mind. Had her scent changed? She had been so caught up in her thoughts this morning that she hadn’t even considered it.

“Gwyn,” He drawled, dragging out the sound of her name. His voice positively dripping with mirth. “Are you going to answer my question or not?”

Oh he knew, she was sure of it. He was just teasing her now. Probably payback for pushing him so much earlier. But if he knew what had happened in training, why was he clearly enjoying himself so much? It wasn’t like him to tease her about something so personal. Was she missing something?

She turned away from him again, fear and embarrassment beginning to set in. Was he going to make a joke about this? She couldn’t bear the thought.

“I’m not answering,” she forced herself to say.

This ridiculous game was a mistake. He was just using it to laugh at her. She tried to pull her hands away from his, but he would not budge. He just continued making lazy circles with his thumbs.

“Why not?” He prodded.

“Because it’s too embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“It will make you uncomfortable.”

“No, it won’t,” he insisted, refusing to let it drop.

Why was he pushing this question so much? Could he really be so cruel? There had to be something she was missing, but she couldn’t see past her increasing irritation.

“Then you’ll probably make fun of me,” she said forcefully, anger building.

“No, I won’t, Gwyn,” he promised, his voice soft but firm.

She only huffed in response.

He brazenly removed a hand from hers and placed it on her knee. She allowed the touch but refused to look at him.

“Gwyn, I would never make fun of you,” he quietly promised, trying to catch her eyes. She turned her head farther away.

He began gently running his thumb across her bare knee. It made her shiver, despite her anger still festering.

“You can tell me anything, Gwyn.”

His smooth, honeyed voice combined with his continued stroking of her hands and knee destroyed her willpower, crushing her anger in the process. She gave in.

“I was distracted by you,” she confessed, her voice small, her blush somehow deepening impossibly more.

“Could you possibly elaborate?” He calmly asked. Any hint of amusement was gone, replaced by a soothing steadiness.

“I was distracted by…by your chest,” she managed to say, shame now replacing the anger. What if he never looked at her the same way again?

Before she had time to think about what she had just admitted to, his mouth was at her ear. She could feel his nose barely grazing her hair, his breath tickling her skin. Her heart started pounding, making her head spin.

“I was distracted too,” he whispered, sounding breathless. “I’m always distracted in training.”

Her words sent her mind into a frenzy. What was he saying? Was this real? No, it couldn’t be. It was not possible.

“Why?” She forced out the question, almost choking on the single word. She was terrified of his answer. What if this was all just some elaborate joke?

His response was instant, no sign of hesitation or embarrassment.

“You, Gwyn,” he breathed against her hair, sending tingles down her spine. “I’m always distracted by you, but especially today.”

She thought she might faint. This had to be a dream. It was not possible. She couldn’t breathe. Her head was spinning. Even though she knew it would just distract her, she tried to focus on the hand still caressing her knee. It was the only thing tethering her.

“What do you mean?” She gasped out, her breathing ragged. “Why were you more distracted today?”

“Your scent changed,” he explained, still at her ear. “It was… intoxicating. I couldn’t think straight because of it.”

She finally turned to look at him, forcing him to pull away slightly. She needed to see his face to confirm this was real. She felt dizzy. Her ability to think reasonably had failed, sending her plunging forward into whatever insanity he had led her into.

To her surprise, he was blushing too. And despite his confident hands still tracing maddening circles on her skin, he looked nervous. Scared almost. Seeing him so unusually ruffled gave her the confidence to speak.

“I didn’t realize my scent had changed,” she admitted, the words coming out shaky and slow. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m sorry.”

She didn’t think he was seeking an apology, but she offered it anyway. She had no idea what was happening. He looked so unsure of himself, yet his hands were still calmly touching her. She couldn’t stop the heat that began flowing through her at the image.

“Gwyn, it’s okay,” he softly responded, so quietly she almost couldn’t hear him over the rushing in her head. “You have nothing to apologize for. I told you, I was distracted by you too. If you hadn’t been so caught up in your own thoughts, you might have noticed my scent change as well.”

His words were almost enough to make her lose all touch with reality. She felt like she might spontaneously combust. As it was, her body felt like it was burning. She was sure her scent had probably shifted again. She involuntarily pressed her thighs together, trying to hide the growing ache in her core.

She had not thought it would ever be possible to feel like this. Not after what had happened to her. Yet here she was, desperately trying to keep her body from showing him what his words were doing to her.

That’s when she realized - it was him. Azriel was the reason she was feeling like this. And not just because she was attracted to him. No. It was because he had made her feel safe. Safe enough to actually let her body react to him. Safe enough that she did not flinch away from his touch.

His patience and steadiness had worked their way past her defenses. She wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. She was terrified and giddy and nervous all at the same time.

“Gwyn?” He asked, her name on his lips drawing her back to him. “Gwyn, say something, please.”

She finally realized he had been waiting for a response. She wasn’t sure how long she had been lost in thought. She tried to find words.

“Azriel, I don’t know what to say. I think I’m in shock. I’m not sure what’s happening.”

She felt lightheaded, like she might float away at any moment. This couldn’t be real, but his deep hazel eyes patiently staring at her told her it had to be.

“Well, I think we just admitted that we’re attracted to each other,” he said, giving her a hesitant smile. “Unless you have a different interpretation.”

“No….I just. I’m not sure what that means. For us.”

Her stomach was in knots. She was scared it meant his comforting friendship would disappear. Would he just want sex now? She wasn’t ready for that.

“It’s up to you what it means for us, Gwyn.”

Nervousness returned to his features as he looked down at the table again. She watched as he took a deep breath before continuing, the words rushing out of him all at once. Like he needed to say everything all at one time or he wouldn’t be able to get it out at all.

“I have feelings for you, Gwyn. I’ve had them for a while now. I’m not sure exactly when they started. And I haven’t told you because I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want to lose your friendship. It means too much to me. But I can’t help wanting more, wanting you. All of you. And today, when I realized what you were thinking about, I… I don’t know. I… I just needed you to know how I felt.”

Seeing him so flustered made her strangely calm. The fear she had had earlier about losing his friendship was gone. He was afraid of the same thing. And he had feelings for her. _For her._ He didn’t just want sex, he wanted _her_. All of her. Her heart felt like it might burst out of her chest.

“Azriel, I’m not sure what this is,” she steadily responded, unafraid now. “But I know that I’m drawn to you. I don’t know why, but I am. And I have feelings for you too. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m scared, but I want to figure this out, whatever this is, with you.”

He looked up at her, his face completely open for once. She couldn’t help but marvel at how beautiful he was. He moved the hand from her knee, hesitantly moving to lightly cup her face instead. She let herself lean slightly into his touch, never breaking his gaze.

“Are you sure, Gwyn?” He slowly asked, taking his time with each word. “If you don’t want whatever this is between us, then we don’t have to do anything about it. I won’t force you into anything. Ever.”

“I want this,” she assured him, any lingering doubts fading. “I’m terrified of losing you as a friend, Az. But I trust you. I want this.”

“Okay,” he nodded after a few seconds, seeming to search her face for anything that might contradict her words. “But you have to promise me that you will tell me if I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.”

“Promise me, Gwyn.”

“I will,” she conceded. “But I trust you.”

“Thank you…for trusting me.”

He ducked his head briefly, then smiled widely at her, joy radiating from him. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She wanted to sing from the mountaintops. But there was one thing she needed to get out first.

“Azriel, before we move any further, I need to make sure we’re clear about something.”

“Anything, Gwyn.”

“I want you,” she slowly began explaining. “But I’m not ready to be with you. Physically, I mean. I wish I was but -”

“Gwyn, stop,” he firmly interrupted her, gently taking her face in both of his hands. “You don’t have to explain this to me. I understand. I know that you need time. And I know there’s a chance you might never be comfortable exploring the physical side of things with me, but I am fine with that. You never have to be afraid of me. Okay?”

She only nodded, unable to speak around the sudden lump in her throat. His words had made all her walls crumble. She had worried that he wouldn’t understand. That she wouldn’t be able to offer him what he wanted. But he did understand. And he wouldn’t push her. He would be patient. She could trust him.

They just sat there for a long moment, gazing at each other. Both basking in the glow of the other. Too lost in each other – this new thing burning between them – to care about anyone around them. After what seemed like forever or maybe only a second, Azriel spoke.

“I should get you home, it’s late.”

His sentence shocked her. It felt like they had only just gotten here. But he was right - it was late. The sun had set without her even noticing. The restaurant was almost empty.

“You’re right,” she reluctantly agreed, not wanting the moment to end. “We should probably go.”

They both stood slowly, neither one really wanting to leave. She watched as Azriel walked away for a moment to pay the bill, promising the owner they would return soon. When he returned to her, he hesitantly reached his hand out, a question in his eyes.

She didn’t allow him time to ask it, already knowing what he wanted. She grabbed his hand in hers, granting his silent request.

As he led her out of the restaurant, pulling her closely behind him, she decided she wasn’t quite ready for this night to end. She stopped walking, forcing Azriel to halt as well.

“Azriel?”

“Yes?”

“Do we have to winnow?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said with a crooked smile that made her heart stutter. “Are you asking if I can fly us back?”

“Yes,” she eagerly nodded, already excited at the thought of being so close to him. She could finally let herself revel in it.

He didn’t respond, simply holding his arms out instead. She stepped into them, putting her arms around his neck. He gently put one arm around her waist, the other going behind her knees to lift her. Cradling her to his chest, he took off into the night sky. And then they were flying. Slowly soaring high above Velaris as the stars began making their appearance above them.

She let herself drift, falling into the soothing warmth of Azriel’s strong body holding her, his shadows wrapping around them. She felt safe and happy. For once, she knew that it would not be nightmares from the past that kept her from sleeping tonight – but dreams of tomorrow.


	5. Azriel POV - Questions and Answers

Azriel couldn’t stop fidgeting as he stood on the balcony at the House of Wind, waiting for Gwyn. He had spent all day thinking about her and what had happened in training today.

He was certain something had shifted between them. He just wasn’t sure what to do about it. Should he tell her how he felt? Or should he stay silent and wait for her to say something? But what if she was waiting for him to say something?

The questions had cycled through his head in an endless circle all day. He was torn between desperately wanting her to know how he felt and being terrified she would run away if he told her. He could not lose her friendship, but he also knew he could not keep hiding things from her.

He had decided to try to test the waters at dinner tonight. See how she was reacting to him after this morning. He just wasn’t exactly sure how he was going to go about doing that. He only knew he needed to do _something_.

Before he could decide a course of action, he heard her step out onto the balcony. He turned to greet her and stopped dead in his tracks, the air rushing out of his lungs. He swallowed once, then twice.

She was dressed in a midnight blue dress made of what appeared to be silk. It was tightly fitted throughout the bodice before floating out from her waist to just below her knees, putting her gorgeous legs on full display and showing off her delicate curves.

Her normally pin straight hair was softly curling around her shoulders and she looked like she was practically glowing. He had no idea how she had done it, but she somehow looked even more beautiful than normal. She was stunning. He couldn’t catch his breath.

He was suddenly very grateful he had opted for a simple black tunic and matching pants. He could blend into the background and let her shine. She was positively radiant, and he wanted the whole world to see it.

“Hello, Azriel,” she greeted him quietly.

“Good evening,” he managed to respond, still breathless. “You look beautiful, Gwyn.”

Beautiful was an understatement, but words were failing him. He couldn’t stop taking her in, committing every detail to memory.

“Thank you,” she said, a blush forming. He wanted to reach out and feel that warmth, but he stopped himself. His shadows had no such restraint though and made their way over to her, softly grazing her cheek before settling around her hair.

“Shall we?” He asked, unable to say anything else. He held his arms out for her, preparing to winnow them to the restaurant.

She nodded, silently allowing him to lift her into his arms so he could fly just past the house’s wards before winnowing. Within a few moments, he was reluctantly releasing her from his arms and setting her back on her feet outside of the restaurant.

It was a lovely little seaside style building with a large patio seating area tucked by the banks of the Sidra. Its location offered the perfect spot to watch the river flowing into the sea while enjoying some of the best food and wine in Velaris. And to top it all off, a live band was always stationed by the doors that led between the patio area and the inside dining. It was one of his favorite places.

As the gentle music from the band greeted them, he led Gwyn onto the patio to a table in the corner. With the sea to their back, the river on one side, the band to the other and Velaris sprawling out before them; it was the ideal vantage point.

Azriel held a chair out for Gwyn just as the owner of the restaurant approached them.

He had become friends with the owner over the years due to his frequent visits to this place. Because of this, he never ordered, instead letting the owner decide what they wanted him to try. His favorite table was also always left open, awaiting his next visit.

After greeting his old friend, Azriel took his seat on the side of the table adjacent to Gwyn, and they quickly fell into an easy conversation. It was always like this with her. Everything always felt natural. He could talk to her for hours about anything and never get bored.

She made him feel calm, at peace. He never worried about anything when he was with her. He never felt like he had to pretend. He was always too caught up in her, all of her, to think of anything else.

The food and wine began flowing out of the kitchen then, momentarily taking his focus away from Gwyn and pausing the debate they were having about chess strategies.

As the evening continued, they ate and laughed and talked; too lost in each other to even notice the time passing. The soft music making even silent moments perfect.

Being with her made everything perfect. The simple feeling of just being near her was enough to make him feel almost overwhelmed with happiness. He wanted this night to go on forever.

As they finished the last of their chocolate torte, a request he had made of the owner earlier in the day when he remembered Gwyn’s fondness for it, he watched as she leaned back and let out a long sigh.

“What?” He asked with a smile, wanting to know what she was thinking.

She turned her eyes on him, close enough now that he could see every shade of teal in them. He delighted in how near to her she had let him.

He had slowly scooted closer to her throughout dinner, unable to resist the temptation. And to his shock, she had not pulled away. If anything, he could have sworn she had been moving toward him too. They were almost on the same side of the table now, their legs occasionally grazing each other. Every small moment of contact sent him into silent exultation.

“Nothing,” she smiled back. “I’m just happy. That’s all.”

“Good,” he replied as the waiter arrived to refill their wine glasses and clear the plates.

They both turned silent for a while, content to just sit and listen to the music. He turned away from her to watch the musicians but found the courage to drape an arm across the back of her chair. He almost stopped breathing as he felt her slowly lean into him.

He was in ecstasy. How was this real? She wasn’t shrinking away from him like he had worried. She was letting him close to her. It made him happier than he had ever thought possible.

He tried to keep himself tethered to the present by focusing on the music, but all he could think about was the feeling of her shoulders pressing into his arm. Subconsciously he started tapping along to the tune on the table, an old habit he still had.

Without warning, he suddenly felt her take his hand into both of hers. He was caught off guard, causing him to react before he could think clearly. He instinctively gripped her wrist and turned toward her. She froze.

He stared at her for a long moment, too shocked to move. He finally forced his features to relax, then slowly released his grasp before gently setting his hand in hers.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized in a low voice, shame at his actions causing his face to heat. He hated himself for scaring her. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” she assured him without a trace of fear. “I should have asked first. I didn’t mean to shock you.”

Her statement took him by surprise. He had almost hurt her, yet she was worried about _him_. It made him feel even worse. Why couldn’t he ever let anyone touch his hands without flinching? He ducked his head, not able to meet her gaze.

“It’s fine,” he promised her, needing to make sure she knew it was not her fault. “I’m just not used to anyone grabbing my hands like that.”

“Are you comfortable with me touching your hands?” She asked calmly. “It’s okay if you’re not.”

“No, it’s fine,” he quickly responded, his blush deepening, confusion now replacing shame. “Really, Gwyn. I don’t mind.”

Why would she still want to touch his hand after what he had just done? She didn’t seem phased by his actions at all. Nor did she seem at all bothered by his scars like most people were.

In fact, she was now gently running her fingers along his scars, tracing his fingers. He could not prevent the shudder it sent through him. He wasn’t used to this kind of contact. It was so…intimate.

She had only ever held his hand once before; the first time he had ever taken her into Velaris. Then, he had been so worried about making sure she was okay that he had barely noticed when she had unexpectedly taken his hand.

But that was different. She had only held his hand that day for support. This time, she seemed to be touching his hand simply because she wanted to. He wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Do you play? She asked him, shocking him once again. She never failed to take him by surprise with her questions. "Piano, I mean. Do you play the piano?”

“Yes,” he responded slowly, hesitant about what she might ask next.

“Hmmm,” she murmured, still slowly examining his hand. “How come I’ve never heard you playing at the House of Wind? There are several pianos.”

“I never use the pianos in the common areas, only the one in the back of the house,” he explained, not able to stop the edge that crept into his voice. “And I usually have my shadows muffle the sound. So it doesn’t bother anyone.”

He was aware that he should not be reacting so defensively, but he knew what normally happened when people found out about this side of him. They usually wanted him to demonstrate and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was going to disappoint her and he hated it.

“Why would anyone be bothered?” She blurted, understandably confused. “I’m sure you play beautifully.”

He didn’t immediately respond, dreading the inevitable moment when she insisted he play for her. She would be annoyed with him when he denied her, just like everyone normally was. He continued staring at the table but felt her pause her movements on his hands.

“Azriel, I’m just curious,” she continued. “Why would anyone be bothered by your music?”

He still did not speak. He wanted to make her happy, but he just wasn’t ready to share this part of himself. It was something he had always kept close to his heart, safe from judging ears.

“I’m sure Cassian and Nesta wouldn’t mind,” Gwyn continued, refusing to let it drop. “Nesta loves music, she would probably enjoy hearing you play. I know I would.”

He let out an exasperated sigh, meeting her stare at last. She deserved an explanation, even if it would ruin this perfect evening. He allowed himself to enjoy the last few seconds before she inevitably pulled away from him, then he finally spoke.

“I don’t let people hear me play because I don’t want them to judge how good or bad I am,” he said, embarrassment making his shadows deepen around him. “Music is a haven, a place where I don’t have to put on a mask. I can poor my thoughts and feelings into a song instead of constantly hiding them. I just don’t want someone judging me for what they hear.”

Just as he had feared, she dropped his hand and turned away from him as he finished speaking. She probably thought his reasoning was ridiculous. Most people did. That’s why he never talked about it. It was too difficult explain how deeply personal music was to him.

As he watched her, a deep blush crept up her face. He grew puzzled. Why would she be blushing when he’s the one who should be embarrassed? Before he could contemplate further, his shadows began frantically whispering in his ear.

_The lovely bird sings too, but she hides it from the world. She understands. Her love for music is as deep as yours._

Realization struck him as his shadows danced between them. She hadn’t pushed him for the reasons he had thought. She just wanted to talk about music, not force him to play for her. She had never told him she sang. She must be as shy as he was about it.

How could he be so blind? Only with her was he ever caught so off guard. He needed to make this right. He couldn’t let her think he was upset with her. Not when he was the one who was acting like a fool.

His need to see her happy again overrode any hesitation he normally had. He removed his hand from her chair and leaned closer to her. She needed to see that he was letting her inside of his defenses. He delicately tucked her hair behind her ear, trying to bring her attention to him.

At his touch, she abruptly lifted her head and almost collided with his face. They were close enough now that their breaths almost mingled.

“Gwyn, I’m sorry,” he softly apologized, refusing to let her blame herself for his obtuse reaction. “I didn’t mean to sound rude. I’m just not used to someone asking me things like that.”

“It’s my fault,” she argued as his shadows danced around her. “I ask too many questions.”

“No, don’t say that,” he insisted, reaching out to gently take her hands in his, somehow managing not to flinch. “I like your questions. You just shock me sometimes, that’s all. I’m not used to talking about myself.”

She granted him a small smile, and it gave him the courage to continue trying to sooth her. He began caressing the backs of her hands with his thumbs, hoping it might help her see that he wasn’t mad.

“I’m not good at discussing myself either,” she confessed, a happy glow slowly returning.

He breathed a sigh of relief. Satisfied that she wasn’t still upset, he allowed himself to relax again. It seemed they both struggled with similar things.

He chuckled. “We’ve discussed every topic imaginable, yet we don’t really talk about ourselves. Do we?”

“No, we really don’t,” she agreed, something he couldn’t identify brewing in her eyes. “But maybe we could change that.”

“Oh?” He had no idea what she meant, but he was content to go along with it - whatever it was. As long as it made her happy.

“We could make it a game of sorts.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Go on.”

“Okay, what if we turn personal questions - questions that we’re too scared to ask normally - into a game? We could take turns. It would be a question for a question.”

“Hmmm, I like that idea,” he said, offering her a crooked smile. “But there needs to be other rules. What if one of us doesn’t want to answer?

"Then that person doesn’t get to ask a question until they do.”

“That’s fair.”

“And if we want to make sure the other one knows it’s part of the game, we can just say ‘that was a question’ after we ask something.”

“You’ve clearly thought this through” he said, amused at how thoroughly she had planned this in just a few seconds.

“Yes, I have,” she confirmed. “And it’s subtle enough that no one would notice if we asked a question around other people.”

“Clever. I like it.”

“Thank you,” she grinned at him. “So, do you agree to the game then?”

He nodded, still looking at her with admiration. She was a wonder. A lovely, marvelous wonder.

“Okay, it’s your turn then,” she instructed him, seeming slightly nervous. “We can count my question about your music as my first turn.”

“Are you sure?” He asked, trying to gauge how comfortable she was.

He had a question he wanted to ask, but he wasn’t sure how she would respond. This was the opportunity he had been looking for since before dinner, but he had already made so many mistakes tonight. He didn’t want to risk making another one and completely scaring her away.

She only nodded in response, not helping him at all. His shadows were no help either. They only ever offered him information about her when it was convenient for them. He would have to decide if the risk was worth it without any assistance.

“I can ask anything, right?” He questioned, giving her a chance to change the rules. “And you have to answer, or you don’t get another turn?”

She nodded once more, not taking the opportunity he had given her. She must really be committed to this game of hers.

“Okay, what’s your favorite color?” He asked, testing her one more time. If she accepted that as his question, he would not try to go any further.

“Blue,” she laughed. “But that is hardly a personal question, Az. I want this to be fair. Ask something else.”

He laughed, but quickly turned serious. She truly did want him to ask something personal. But what if his question was _too_ personal?

“I have a question I want to ask, but I think it will make you uncomfortable,” he admitted.

“That is kind of the point,” she insisted. “We’re supposed to be asking uncomfortable questions.”

“Are you sure?” He pressed, his brow furrowing. “You won’t be mad?”

“I’m sure,” she confidently replied. “I won’t be mad. Ask me anything.”

“Okay,” he accepted her response, nervousness setting in. He worked his features into his familiar mask, making his face unreadable.

Then he quirked his head, studying her. She held his gaze, still allowing him to softly caress her hands. He chewed on his bottom lip, trying to weigh the outcomes. Was it worth the risk?

He decided he would ask the question but keep a teasing exterior. Her reaction might help him figure out how she felt about everything. If she teased back, then she likely didn’t care. If she got angry, she probably didn’t want him knowing. And if she got shy or nervous…he didn’t want to think about what that meant. It would only get his hopes up.

He was silent for a moment longer before finally asking, “What distracted you so much in training today?”

She instantly turned a deep shade of crimson, her eyes going huge. She was shocked. Oh shit! He hadn’t prepared for that. He couldn’t tell if it was from anger or embarrassment. She was just staring at him, utterly frozen. Was this good or bad?

He needed to get her to say something, anything. He decided to push forward with his teasing plan, hoping it might bring her back to him.

“Gwyn,” He drawled, dragging out the sound of her name. “Are you going to answer my question or not?”

He put as much amusement into his voice as possible, but on the inside, he was a wreck. What if he was ruining everything? It was too late to turn back. He was terrified.

She turned away from him, not letting him see whatever emotion was in her eyes. Shit, he thought again. Oh fucking shit. He needed to know what she was feeling. But how was he supposed to figure that out when she wouldn’t look at him?

“I’m not answering,” she told him, the words sounding forced. What did that mean?

He needed to figure this out, and he needed to do it fast. Before she ran away from him. Before he ruined their friendship forever.

She tried to pull her hands away from his, but he refused to budge. He just continued making lazy circles with his thumbs. He needed her to stay here, to continue playing this dangerous game with him. He decided to try getting her to show him how she was with feeling with words.

“Why not?” He prodded her.

“Because it’s too embarrassing.”

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.”

“It will make you uncomfortable.”

“No, it won’t,” he insisted, refusing to let it drop. Her responses were slowly helping him understand what she might be feeling, he just needed a little more.

“Then you’ll probably make fun of me,” she said forcefully, still refusing to look at him.

But she had just given him the answer he needed. The puzzle pieces were falling into place, at least he hoped they were.

She was embarrassed, which meant she had probably figured out that he knew about what had happened in training. And she was worried about his response. He refused to let himself have hope about what that might mean. He didn’t consider his next few actions, choosing instead to blindly plunge forward into the unknown.

“No, I won’t, Gwyn,” he promised her, making his voice as firm as possible while also trying to sooth her fears.

She only huffed in response.

All logic and reason left him. All he knew was that he needed her to keep talking. He brazenly removed a hand from hers and placed it on her knee. She allowed the touch but still kept her head down.

“Gwyn, I would never make fun of you,” he quietly promised, trying to catch her eyes. She turned her head farther away.

He began gently running his thumb across her bare knee. He felt her shiver. Good, at least her body was still responding to him. That had to be a good sign. It pushed him to keep going.

“You can tell me anything, Gwyn.”

He waited for her response, barely breathing. He continued his soft stroking of her hands and knees, trying to physically communicate with her that he wasn’t going to tease her anymore. He could see her resistance fade.

“I was distracted by you,” she finally confessed, her voice small, her blush somehow deepening.

He couldn’t believe it. She was actually admitting to him what had happened. He could barely think straight, but he knew he needed to be as calm as possible for her sake. She needed to feel safe.

“Could you possibly elaborate?” He calmly asked, erasing any hint of amusement from his voice and replacing it with as much steadiness as he could muster.

“I was distracted by…by your chest,” she responded, her voice growing even smaller. She was scared, almost like she thought he might be mad.

But her words were having the exact opposite effect. His mind was in a frenzy. This was it. This was exactly what he had been hoping for. He needed to tell her everything now or he might never get a chance like this again.

He forced himself to ignore any lingering doubts or fears as he leaned in closer to her, not stopping until his mouth was almost touching her ear. Her hair grazed his nose, sending her scent wafting through him. It was almost enough to make him lose all control.

“I was distracted too,” he whispered, his heart almost pounding out of his chest. “I’m always distracted in training.”

Her next few reactions were going to decide their fate. He was either going to be sent soaring or crashing – there was no in-between.

“Why?” She asked uncertainly.

He responded instantly, not allowing her to hear any sign of hesitation.

“You, Gwyn,” he breathed against her hair, desperately hoping she understood him. “I’m always distracted by you, but especially today.”

“What do you mean?” She gasped out, her breathing ragged. “Why were you more distracted today?”

“Your scent changed,” he explained, still at her ear, completely surrendering to her. “It was… intoxicating. I couldn’t think straight because of it.”

She finally turned to look at him, forcing him to pull away slightly. He was terrified, but he forced himself to hold her gaze. He was in far too deep now. It was entirely in her hands now.

“I didn’t realize my scent had changed,” she admitted, the words coming out shaky and slow. “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I’m sorry.”

“Gwyn, it’s okay,” he softly assured her, trying to project as much calmness into his steady strokes across her skin as possible. “You have nothing to apologize for. I told you, I was distracted by you too. If you hadn’t been so caught up in your own thoughts, you might have noticed my scent change as well.”

She did not immediately respond, but her face changed, her eyes almost glazing over. But she wasn’t looking at him with fear or pulling away. So he just continued making lazy circles with his thumbs, quietly holding her gaze as he waited.

But then her scent slowly started shifting, once again laced with the delicious hints of arousal that had started this whole thing. His heart stuttered. Was this really happening? He had to be imagining it.

Before he could convince himself that he was going crazy, he felt her leg shift beneath his hand. Almost like she had suddenly clenched her thighs together. The thought sent heat coursing through him. He needed her to say something now, before he lost all sense of self-control.

“Gwyn?” He asked, trying to draw her back to him. “Gwyn, say something, please.”

She blinked. She had clearly been lost in her own thoughts. He watched her struggle for a moment before speaking.

“Azriel, I don’t know what to say. I think I’m in shock. I’m not sure what’s happening.”

She looked nervous, but not scared. That seemed like a good sign. As he continued staring into her eyes, trust shining out of them, he decided to entirely throw caution to the wind.

“Well, I think we just admitted that we’re attracted to each other,” he said, giving her a hesitant smile. “Unless you have a different interpretation.”

“No….I just. I’m not sure what that means. For us.”

“It’s up to you what it means for us, Gwyn.”

This was it. The final bridge he needed to cross. It wasn’t fair to either of them to keep pretending. So he would do this for her, even if she rejected him.

Fear and nervousness returned as he looked down at the table again. He took a deep breath before continuing, the words rushing out of him all at once. He needed to say this now or he never would.

“I have feelings for you, Gwyn. I’ve had them for a while now. I’m not sure exactly when they started. And I haven’t told you because I didn’t want to scare you. I didn’t want to lose your friendship. It means too much to me. But I can’t help wanting more, wanting you. All of you. And today, when I realized what you were thinking about, I… I don’t know. I… I just needed you to know how I felt.”

There. He had done it. It was neither eloquent nor entirely coherent, but he had gotten everything out. Utter terror gripped him as he waited. Even his shadows were uneasily flitting between them, anxious for her next words.

“Azriel, I’m not sure what this is,” she steadily responded. “But I know that I’m drawn to you. I don’t know why, but I am. And I have feelings for you too. I don’t know what I’m doing and I’m scared, but I want to figure this out, whatever this is, with you.”

He met her gaze as a feeling unlike anything he had ever felt burst from his chest. He was speechless. If she had asked him to sing right then and there: he would have. The whole world could go up in flames at that very moment and he wouldn’t have cared. The only thing that mattered was sitting right in front of him.

She wanted him. Gwyneth Berdara wanted _him_. The beautiful priestess who had managed to find her way under all his carefully crafted masks wanted him. He had never felt bliss like this. This couldn’t be real.

He moved his hand from her knee, hesitantly reaching out to lightly cup her face instead. She just held his gaze, leaning ever so slightly into his touch, sending him deeper into a flood of joy. Still, he needed to be absolutely certain he had understood her.

"Are you sure, Gwyn?” He slowly asked, taking his time with each word. “If you don’t want whatever this is between us, then we don’t have to do anything about it. I won’t force you into anything. Ever.”

“I want this,” she assured him, not so much as a hint of hesitation in her voice. “I’m terrified of losing you as a friend, Az. But I trust you. I want this.”

With her last few words, she unknowingly won his final surrender. He was hers. This was the female he would go to wars over. The female he would level mountains for. And for once, he didn’t care if a mating bond ever snapped into place or even if one already had. It didn’t matter. He knew without question that Gwyn was the female he had been made for.

It would take time, for both of them, to open up every part of themselves. But he would do it. He would open the doors he had kept shut for centuries for her. And he would patiently wait for her to do the same, no matter how long it took. He didn’t need her to give herself wholly to him yet. It was enough to just know she wanted him. He studied her face for a minute, reassuring himself this was real. There was just one promise he needed from her now.

“Okay,” he nodded after a few seconds. “But you have to promise me that you will tell me if I ever do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“You won’t.”

“Promise me, Gwyn.”

“I will,” she conceded. “But I trust you.”

“Thank you…for trusting me.”

He ducked his head briefly, then smiled widely at her, unable to hide the absolute joy she was bringing him. This moment made every doubt, every fear, every trial he had been through in the last five centuries worth it.

“Azriel, before we move any further, I need to make sure we’re clear about something.”

“Anything, Gwyn.”

“I want you,” she said slowly. “But I’m not ready to be with you. Physically, I mean. I wish I was but -”

“Gwyn, stop,” he firmly interrupted her, gently taking her face in both of his hands. “You don’t have to explain this to me. I understand. I know that you need time. And I know there’s a chance you might never be comfortable exploring the physical side of things with me, but I am fine with that. You never have to be afraid of me. Okay?”

She only nodded at him, but he could tell she understood him. He would never rush her. Even if he had to wait five more centuries until she gave herself to him, even if she never did, he would never push her. This was a part of their relationship he would always let her lead. He would never take anything farther than she wanted him to.

They just sat there for a long moment, gazing at each other. Both basking in the glow of the other. Too lost in each other – this new thing burning between them – to care about anyone around them. After what seemed like forever or maybe only a second, Azriel forced himself to speak.

“I should get you home, it’s late.”

He didn’t want to take her home, he would much rather stay here forever, but it really was getting late. The sun had set, and the restaurant was almost empty. As much as he wanted to, they couldn’t sit here all night.

“You’re right,” she agreed, seeming as reluctant to move as he was. “We should probably go.”

They both stood slowly, neither one really wanting to leave. He forced himself to walk away from her long enough to pay the bill and say goodbye to the owner. When he returned to her, he hesitantly reached his hand out, a question in his eyes.

She didn’t allow him time to ask it. She simply grabbed his hand in hers, granting his silent request. The trust in her simple gesture almost sent him to his knees before her.

As he led her out of the restaurant, pulling her closely behind him, he felt almost giddy at the feeling of having her so close to him. Then she suddenly stopped walking, forcing him to halt as well. He turned to her, slightly confused.

“Azriel?”

“Yes?”

“Do we have to winnow?”

“Not if you don’t want to,” he said with a crooked smile, quickly realizing why she had stopped. “Are you asking if I can fly us back?”

“Yes,” she eagerly nodded, excitement in her eyes. It made his heart skip a beat.

He didn’t respond, simply holding his arms out instead. She stepped into them, putting her arms around his neck. He gently put one arm around her waist, the other going behind her knees to lift her. Cradling her to his chest, he took off into the night sky. And then they were flying. Slowly soaring high above Velaris as the stars began making their appearance above them.

As he took them higher and higher, he silently watched her. She looked utterly at peace. He let himself revel in her contentment, his shadows gently wrapping themselves around them both. He could live in this moment for the rest of eternity.


	6. Surveillance, Snacks and Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Did someone ask for a first kiss?

It had been almost a week since Gwyn and Azriel had confessed their feelings for each other, and she still couldn’t believe it was real. Each time she thought about him now, her heart swelled with joy. He was hers. Completely hers.

He had been busy with work all week helping Mor in Vallahan, so she had not seen him much since their dinner. But every moment since then had felt like a dream. One she didn’t want to wake from.

She was finishing her work in the library for the night, having stayed later than normal, when she sensed his presence. His shadows reached her before he did, dancing around her legs and entwining themselves in her hair. She looked up just in time to see Azriel round the corner of the row of bookshelves she was down.

“Hello, Az,” she grinned broadly, her heart beating faster at the sight of him. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

He gave her a small smile as he reached her, his hand already stretching out for hers. She happily slipped her hand into his, reveling in his touch.

"Hello,” Azriel greeted her, brow furrowing. “I’m afraid you’re not going to like the reason for my early visit.”

“Oh, why?” She asked, studying his beautiful face. He looked drained. He had been working so much lately and she knew he was exhausted and stressed, even if he would never admit it.

“Because I can’t stay,” he explained, reaching his free hand up to softly stroke her cheek. “I have to winnow back to Vallahan for some surveillance. I’ll probably be there most of the night. I only came back to see you for a moment.”

“Oh,” she couldn’t stop her disappointment from showing. She had wanted to talk to him tonight. Ever since he had come home yesterday, he had been in a strange mood. Now it seemed she would be denied the opportunity to ask him about it.

“I’m sorry,” he said, sounding as disappointed as she felt. “If I could somehow be in two places at once, I would.”

“It’s alright, I understand.”

It was his job. She knew that. She just wished it didn’t take him away so often. Maybe there was a way around this.

“Is it dangerous?” She questioned, hoping her plan would work. “Or is it mostly observation type work.”

“Mostly observing, why?”

“Could I come with you?”

His thumb paused its stroking of her cheek, the only indication he was shocked. But he quickly recovered himself.

“I suppose,” he slowly responded. “It’s nothing you would need training for…but you do realize Vallahan is far away. Right? Are you okay with that?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she promised. She had already mentally prepared herself. As long as she wasn’t expected to go trotting around the city, she would be fine. “I just want to spend time with you and going with you would solve that problem.”

He studied her for a minute before nodding, worry lines still creasing his forehead.

“Alright, if you’re sure you’re okay with it, then I guess you can come.”

He sounded hesitant, but she didn’t push him. His worry for her was probably just adding to his odd mood. But she would be fine, she was sure of it. She was tired of letting fear run her life.

She told him she needed to change before they left, then quickly rushed off to her room. Within 15 minutes, she was walking back to his side in her training leathers, hair braided back and a basket full of goodies on her arm.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she chirped. She had decided while changing that she would be as upbeat as possible in the hope that it helped him not worry about her.

“What’s that?” He asked, gesturing to her basket as he took her hand again and led her upstairs.

He seemed so weary, almost distant. It had been the same yesterday. Was it just stress or something else? She didn’t let herself dwell on the question too long. She had plenty of time to figure it out now.

“Snacks,” she told him, swinging the basket back and forth as they stepped outside. “I haven’t eaten yet, and I figured you hadn’t either.”

“You always think of everything,” he chuckled, giving her a small smile. It didn’t quite meet his eyes. There was definitely something bothering him.

“One should always be prepared,” she teased, deciding then to get him smiling like normal by the time he brought her home.

He only chuckled again. As he took her in his arms to winnow, he asked her one last time if she was sure about going. She nodded, and then she was swept into his shadows.

A moment later she was standing on a grassy hill covered with trees that overlooked a grand estate. She could see the entire backside of the house, including its sprawling gardens, from her vantage point.

For one brief second, fear almost overtook her, but she quickly pushed it down. Wherever they were, she knew no one could see her. Azriel had completely swathed them in shadows the second they arrived. And she was with Azriel. She was safe.

She followed him to a small outcropping, almost entirely hidden in the trees, as he settled himself against a large tree trunk. She sat down next to him, placing the basket of snacks next to her as she started pulling out random items.

He watched her but remained quiet. He was thinking about something, she could tell. This was not his peaceful, happy silence. This was a contemplative one. She knew that meant she would need to be patient with him, let him sort his thoughts out before he told her. In the meantime, she would try to help him relax.

“Strawberries or apples?” She offered, holding up both options.

He silently took the apple from her hand, pulling out Truth-Teller in the process. He bumped his leg against hers in thanks before turning his head to watch the sprawling estate.

She let him remain silent. It was like this sometimes with them; her doing the talking and him listening. It never bothered her though. She knew he was always paying attention, even if he was not responding.

Before she could dig into her other snacks, a slice of apple slipped into her palm. She looked up to find him watching her instead of the estate. She smiled at him, then popped the slice into her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said as he cut two more slices of his apple, one for him and another for her. “I’ve never done this whole spying thing, am I supposed to be quiet all night or can I talk?”

“Normally I’m alone, so there’s not much talking involved,” he responded, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “But you can talk tonight. We’re just watching to see if anyone comes or goes. No need to be silent the whole time.”

“Okay, good. I didn’t want to ruin your reputation as the brooding Spymaster of the Night Court by chattering too much.”

That finally earned her a genuine smile. Good, she was on the right track. She munched on some more of her snacks – strawberries, more apple, cheese and bread, with cookies for dessert – before deciding she would see if he would play a game with her. If she presented the conversation as a challenge, it might help him relax enough to open up.

“Can we play a game?” She coyly asked, looking up at him through her lashes. That got his attention. He paused his apple slicing mid motion.

“What kind of game?” he inquired, a hint of amusement breaking through. “A question for a question or something else?”

“I was thinking something similar.”

“Like what?”

“How about a secret for a secret?”

“Isn’t that essentially the same thing?”

“No, they’re quite different.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “How so?”

She chewed on another apple slice before responding. “Well, a secret for a secret means we have to tell the other something that we weren’t asked. It’s a statement not an answer.”

He thought about her idea for a minute, chewing on his bottom lip. She forgot all about her game. She wanted to feel his lips for herself. They had not kissed yet, not even after their dinner last week, and it was driving her insane. She hadn’t expected to be so eager to have his mouth on hers, but now it was a constant distraction.

“Okay,” Azriel suddenly said, shocking her from her fixation on his lips.

“What?” She had forgotten what he was supposed to be agreeing to.

“Let’s play your game, a secret for a secret,” he smirked, popping a strawberry in his mouth before continuing. “Who goes first?”

“Oh, um, I can,” she stumbled out, still preoccupied watching that wicked mouth of his. Would she ever stop being so distracted around him? She shook her head, trying to focus on the game.

She took her time deciding about what secret to reveal, pulling out the peanut butter cookies she had packed while she thought. She handed one to him and chewed on the other for a moment before responding.

“I like when you hold my hand.”

He slowly smiled at her, taking her hand in his and lifting it to his mouth. He placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles, holding her gaze the entire time. She thought she might faint.

“I like holding your hand too,” he murmured against their joined hands before setting them in his lap. “My turn now?”

She could only nod. If she had been standing, her knees would have been trembling. She focused on breathing as she waited for him to take his turn. But his secret knocked the wind out of her.

“I’m scared that if you learn about my past, you’ll run away from me.”

Her face went slack in utter shock. He was so calm, but there was a deep sadness in his eyes. She could have cried at how vulnerable he looked. She didn’t think this was what had caused his distant mood, but she was fairly sure it must be connected to it.

She gently removed her hand from his, almost shattering completely at the hurt on his face as she did. But she was only pulling away so she could move to her knees to face him at eye level. Once she had adjusted, she looked into his confused face for a moment and then threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her. She felt his body stiffen momentarily but then go soft, his arms twining around her waist. Tears threatened to escape her as he clung to her.

“Azriel, why would you ever think that?” She managed to get out around the lump in her throat. “I already know you. There’s nothing you can tell me now that would make me run. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, tucking his head into the crook of her neck. “I do terrible things for my job and I’ve been a complete fool for five centuries. I’m scared that if I tell you about those things, you’ll hate me.”

Tears were becoming more and more of a threat, but she choked them back. She needed him to understand she was not going anywhere. Nothing in his past could change that.

“First of all, I already know most of what you do for your job,” she began, a few tears finally escaping. “I understand what you do. It is okay. Second, I am aware that you are considerably older than me. I kind of expected that you had been dumb at some point. Again, it is okay. And third, I could never hate you. You can tell me anything. I promise.”

He didn’t respond, just gripped her tighter. She let him, holding him for as long as he needed until his body slowly relaxed. When he finally loosened his hold on her, she withdrew enough to look at him.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your game,” he shyly apologized.

“It’s okay,” she assured him with a smile, briskly brushing any stray tears away. “I knew something was off with you, so I kind of walked into that.”

He chuckled. “I haven’t been in the greatest mood, have I?”

She shook her head, determination to cheer him up returning as she took his hand again, still kneeling beside him. “You’ve just been a little bit distant, that’s all. But I refuse to allow this solemnness to continue.”

“Oh, really,” he mused, some amusement finally reaching his eyes. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I simply won’t have it,” she said with mock sternness. “I have decided I need you to be happy, so I am sending good vibes your way.”

“And what if I don’t accept your good vibes?” He teased, playing her game.

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” she told him, beginning to blow kisses at him. “It’s too late. I already sent good vibes your way. They’re coming.”

She continued blowing kisses as he burst into laughter. He jokingly caught them in his hand and tucked them by his heart.

“This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.”

“Good. We don’t want people thinking you’re going soft now, do we?”

“Of course not.”

This was good. He was smiling again, truly smiling. Maybe now she could find out what had started this whole thing. She sat back down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder as he pulled their joined hands into his lap once more.

“We don’t have to keep playing my game,” she promised him gently. “But could you possibly tell me what else was bothering you? There is something else, isn’t there?”

“Yes, there is,” he sighed. “But before I tell you, I need you to understand something.”

“What?”

He turned to look at her, taking her face in his free hand. She met his stare, waiting.

“I need you to know that you are the _only_ female I have feelings for. You are the only one I want to be with. Nothing I am about to tell you changes that, okay?”

She nodded, not quite understanding why he was telling her this. He studied her face but continued.

“And when I am explaining this to you, don’t freak out until the end. Please.”

“Azriel, I’m not going to freak out at all.”

“Gwyn, please.”

“I promise. You can tell me.”

He took a deep breath but accepted her response. She silently waited. After a few minutes, he turned toward the estate again and began speaking.

“I met Mor when we were both very young. She was everything I thought I needed. Sunshine personified. I fell in love almost instantly. Then one of the worst days of my life happened and she almost died,” he paused, thinking about his next words. “I won’t go into detail about it – it’s her story to tell – but at the end of it, I tried confessing my feelings to her and she rejected me. I thought I understood why. I thought it was just because I wasn’t worthy of her, that she didn’t want a bastard-born nobody. Until yesterday.”

Gwyn watched him run a shaking hand through his hair as he stopped. She had an inkling about where this was going, but she stayed silent. She started stroking the back of his hand with her thumb, both to soothe him and keep herself calm. He continued after a few minutes.

“I never spy on Mor, or anyone in my family if I can avoid it. I don’t like invading their privacy. And with her, I never wanted to know if she was with someone. I knew she took lovers, but I deliberately avoided thinking about who they were. I didn’t want to know. But I came home early yesterday, hoping to surprise you. Except I found Mor and Emerie first. I stumbled on them…kissing…in the training ring. I tried to walk out, but Mor noticed me.”

He paused again, taking deep, shuddering breaths. Gwyn was almost positive she knew where this was headed now, but she let him continue telling his story.

“I kept trying to walk away, but she forced me to stay. Then she apologized for not loving me in the way I had wanted for so long. She explained that it was her own preferences – ones I had been blind to – that prevented her from loving me in that way. That stopped her from loving any male that way. I spent so long thinking I wasn’t worthy of her love, just to find out I had been too fucking blind to realize it had nothing to do with me.”

He finally stopped, his breathing ragged. Gwyn began rubbing her free hand up and down his arm, continuing her gentle stroking of his hand with her other. This all should have shocked her, but it didn’t.

She knew Emerie had gotten involved with Mor – she and Nesta had walked in on them in a similar fashion weeks ago – but she had assumed Mor’s family knew. Mor’s preferences had seemed obvious to her from the second she had started interacting with Emerie.

“Az,” she softly said, not sure how she was going to explain what she already knew. “Azriel, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he responded, squeezing her hand but not yet looking at her. “I just feel like such a fool. I wasted five centuries pining for someone all because I was oblivious to what was right in front of me. And what if I had kept pining? I could have lost you because of it.”

“But you didn’t,” she reminded him. “I’m right here. Nothing you said changes that.”

“Aren’t you upset though?” he asked, at last turning to meet her gaze, the worry lines from earlier back on his forehead. “You seem so calm. How? Am I missing something, Gwyn?”

“Kind of,” she confessed, blushing slightly.

“Gwyn…please elaborate,” he pushed, confused. She couldn’t blame him. She knew far more than she should. She took a deep breath before answering.

“Azriel, I already knew about Mor and Emerie,” she slowly explained. “I walked in on them weeks ago. I assumed that you knew too.”

Understanding dawned in his features as she spoke. Then more confusion.

“Wait…so you knew about Emerie and Mor,” he clarified. “But…I’m still lost Gwyn. You don’t seem shocked about _anything_ I said.”

She picked at invisible lint on her pants, looking down at their joined hands. He lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to look at him.

“Gwyn…tell me. Please.”

“Az, I…I already knew about most of what you just told me,” she explained, guilt washing over her. She should have said something sooner, but she had wanted him to tell her on his own.

“Gwyn, what do you mean? How could you have known?”

“Well, I didn’t know exactly what had happened, but I knew there had been something between you and Mor. Nesta told me months ago, before I even realized I had feelings for you. Then when I found out about Mor and Emerie, I assumed Mor’s preferences were the reason you weren’t with her. I thought you knew.”

He blinked, then abruptly stood, leaving her side and pacing back and forth for several minutes. She watched him silently, worried she had upset him further. He ran his hands across his face before sitting back down as suddenly as he had gotten up.

“I am so _fucking_ stupid,” he burst out, shaking his head in bewilderment. “I’ve spent all day worrying about how I would explain this to you. Worried you would think it meant I didn’t care about you. But you’re not even shocked.”

“I’m sorry you were anxious about telling me,” she soothed him, taking his hand back in hers. “But you never have any reason to think I would be upset with you for your past. Your feelings for her _are_ in the past, aren’t they?”

“Of course!” He blurted immediately, whipping his head toward her so fast she could hear his neck crack. “Gwyn, I promise you have _nothing_ to worry about. I don’t know when I finally stopped having feelings for her, but I promise it is in the past. You are the only female I want. Please tell me you know that.”

“Of course, Az,” she reassured him, his words calming any lingering fear she may have felt. He was hers. “I trust you. But Az…there’s still part of this we haven’t addressed.”

“What part?”

“Why would you ever call yourself a bastard-born nobody? Or think you’re unworthy of love?”

“I…it seemed logical,” he quietly said, staring at the ground. She lifted his chin with her finger; it was her turn to make him look at her now.

“I never want to hear you say those things again,” she firmly told him, her voice thick with emotion. “You are wonderful, and marvelous and so, so worth it. Promise me you won’t ever say those horrible words again.”

He nodded, the soft vulnerability from earlier returning to his beautiful face. The hopeful trust and openness in his eyes almost made her weep.

“Gwyn, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he quietly said, putting a finger to her lips as she tried to cut him off. “I just felt so foolish for not seeing things sooner. And I was angry at myself for making Mor feel like she couldn’t tell me. I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

“Az, it wouldn’t burden me,” she promised, projecting as much assurance as possible into her face. “You thought you had found your person, but it didn’t work out. That is _nothing_ to be ashamed of. And with Mor, I don’t think it was your fault. I think she was just scared.”

“I know, I just wished she felt safe enough to tell me. I still care about her. She’s family, no matter what.”

“Yes, which means the best thing you can do now is support her,” she instructed, wanting to make it very clear that she trusted him. “Now that you both understand everything, you should both be there for each other.”

“You’re sure it’s not weird? For you, I mean. All of this.”

She shook her head. “I’ve already had months to wrap my head around the basic idea. As long as you aren’t still pining, then I’m perfectly comfortable with it. I like Mor.”

He chuckled, slowly returning to more peaceful state. “I promise I am not still pining…for anyone but you.”

She blushed, smiling down at her hands. He was hers. They sat there for a minute, letting themselves both process everything they had discussed. After a while, Gwyn finally spoke.

“So, since you technically just revealed a rather big secret, does this mean I should tell you a secret now?”

“Only if you want to.”

She did. He had been utterly defenseless with her tonight. She wanted to return the gesture.

“I want to…but you have to promise you won’t tease me for it.”

“I won’t,” he vowed, watching her steadily. She took one more deep breath and said it.

“I want you to kiss me.”

His eyes went wider then she would have thought possible, and his jaw sagged. She blushed deeply, hoping he was just shocked. She was quickly reassured when his scent slowly shifted and his mouth twisted into a smile of pure triumph.

She watched as he gently pulled away from her, never once taking his eyes – practically glowing now – off her. He got on his knees, facing her as she had done earlier. He had been waiting for her to ask him, she was sure of it.

As he slowly, too slowly, leaned towards her, every inch of her body went hot. She wasn’t entirely sure she was breathing anymore. All she knew was that he was about to kiss her. She had never wanted anything more.

He tenderly took her face in his hands, bringing his head down to her level, so close their breaths mingled. Just before he lowered his mouth to hers, he paused.

“Are you sure?” he whispered, the sound of his voice barely breaking through the aching need she felt to taste him. She managed to nod, incapable of words.

And then his mouth was finally on hers. Their lips softly moving together – exploring, tasting. It was gentle, unhurried. She slowly wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her hands in his hair, pulling him closer. She was melting, falling into the blissful harmony of his body pressing into hers. But she wanted more. She needed more.

She opened for him, silently urging him to take, take, take. As he gradually deepened the kiss, she moaned into him, utterly surrendering. His grip on her tightened, drawing her closer, deeper. The kiss turned almost frantic. Both of them desperate to taste more, feel _more_.

Just when she thought her body might actually be burning, he pulled away, dropping his head onto her shoulder. They were both panting, taking deep, ragged breaths. She tried to form words, but her mind was a puddle, her body still aching with need. She held on to him, trying to regather the ability to function.

They sat like that for several minutes, both of them needing to catch their breaths and come back to reality. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Azriel withdrew enough to look at her again. She just stared at him, still lost in the ecstasy of his kiss.

“Gwyn, are you okay?” He asked, voice shaky, his face turning to concern. “Did I go too far?”

She shook her head, trying to reassure him. She had wanted that. She had enjoyed that. But he needed words, she could see it in his eyes, still staring worriedly at her.

“Azriel, I’m fine,” she managed to force out of her now swollen mouth. “I’m perfect. Really.”

He only nodded, seeming as disoriented as she was. That kiss had been everything and more. She wasn’t sure she could ever be around him now without needing to feel that again. She needed to taste him, to feel his body pressing into hers again.

He slowly settled himself next to her once more, wrapping her in his arms this time. She leaned into his chest, needing to convince herself this was real. It all felt like a dream. A perfect, wonderful, mesmerizing dream.

As she found the ability to think again, she suddenly remembered where they were.

“Azriel?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think we may have failed our mission.”

He chuckled, the sound rumbling in his chest. “Why’s that?”

“Because we were supposed to be spying.”

It seemed they had managed to do everything but what they had come here for. She hoped she hadn’t accidentally jeopardized anything important.

“I have been spying,” he assured her, running a hand lightly across her back. “What do you think my shadows have been doing this whole time? Besides keeping us hidden.”

“Ooohh, I see.”

His shadows had completely escaped her thoughts. She was so used to their soothing presence now that she had forgotten they could perform more then one duty at a time.

They sat there for a while longer, a contented silence falling over them, before she suddenly got an idea.

“Azriel?”

“Yes, Gwyn?”

“Will you teach me how to be a spy?”

She felt him stiffen slightly before he pulled her away to study her.

“You want to learn how to be a spy?” He questioned; brow raised.

“Yes,” she nodded, nothing but steady confidence in her voice. He pulled her back into him, returning them to their previous position.

“I can start training you next week, whenever you have time. I suppose we could turn our nighttime trips to the training ring into spy training instead.”

She murmured her agreement, satisfied he was willing to teach her.

They sat in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, until late into the night. Only leaving once Azriel was satisfied nothing was happening at the estate. She was half dozing against his chest by the time he scooped her up and winnowed them home. He carried her all the way to the library doors before finally setting her down.

They murmured their good nights, both exhausted but happy. Just before she was about to open the door to leave, she turned back to Azriel and lightly grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward her. He obediently yielded to her, letting her take the lead.

She placed her hands on his chest and stood on her tippy toes – forcing him to bend slightly to her level – and kissed him deeply. She let her lips linger for a long moment. Then she quietly stepped away, disappearing down into the library, her mind full of the blissful memory of Azriel’s kiss.


	7. Azriel POV - Surveillance, Snacks and Secrets

It had been almost a week since Azriel and Gwyn had confessed their feelings, and he was still in shock. He could not believe Gwyn - Gwyneth Berdara - wanted _him_. It made him want to shout it from the mountaintops.

He was just worried he was going to mess something up and lose her, especially after yesterday. He needed to talk to her, but he was terrified it would ruin everything.

He had been busy with work all week helping Mor in Vallahan, so he had only seen Gwyn for training and a few stolen moments each night. Tonight was no different. He was only here to see her for a moment before he left again.

He tried to push his anxious thoughts away as he approached the row of bookshelves his shadows had led him to. They danced away from him, seeking out their target. As he rounded the corner, he saw his shadows swirling around Gwyn and entwining themselves in her hair. She looked up in time to see him take the final few steps to her.

“Hello, Az,” she grinned broadly, her face lighting up. It made his heart stop. “You’re earlier than I expected.”

He gave her a small smile as he stretched his hand out for hers. She obliged his silent request, slipping her hand into his.

"Hello,” Azriel greeted her, brow unconsciously furrowing. He was about to disappoint her. “I’m afraid you’re not going to like the reason for my early visit.”

“Oh, why?” She asked, studying him.

“Because I can’t stay,” he explained, brining his free hand up to softly stroke her cheek. “I have to winnow back to Vallahan for some surveillance. I’ll probably be there most of the night. I only came back to see you for a moment.”

“Oh,” her face dropped. He hated this. He normally would not mind spending an evening alone, but all he wanted to do was talk to her. Spend time with her. Was that too much to ask?

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, as disappointed as she was. “If I could somehow be in two places at once, I would.”

“It’s alright, I understand.”

Seeing her so let down ripped his heart open. He wanted to forget everything he had just said; skip the mission entirely. But he couldn’t. It was his job.

“Is it dangerous?” She questioned, eyes lighting back up slightly. “Or is it mostly observation type work.”

“Mostly observing, why?”

“Could I come with you?”

He paused his stroking of her cheek, shocked from his steady motions. No one had ever asked to accompany him before. Ever.

“I suppose,” he slowly responded, worried she had not fully thought this through. “It’s nothing you would need training for…but you do realize Vallahan is far away. Right? Are you okay with that?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine,” she promised, sounding utterly confident. “I just want to spend time with you and going with you would solve that problem.”

How was she real? She was willing to go all the way to Vallahan just to spend time with him. He studied her for a minute, looking for any signs of fear, but found none. He finally nodded, still slightly worried but wanting to let her decide.

“Alright, if you’re sure you’re okay with it, then I guess you can come.”

He knew he sounded hesitant, but she didn’t press him. She simply told him she needed to change before they left, then quickly rushed off to her room. Within 15 minutes, she was walking back to his side in her training leathers, hair braided back and a basket on her arm.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she chirped, back to her normal cheery demeanor. If it made her this happy, maybe he should have invited her on surveillance missions before. He made a mental note of it.

“What’s that?” He asked, gesturing to her basket as he took her hand and led her upstairs.

He was trying to be happy for her sake, but he knew he seemed distant. He was excited to have the opportunity to spend time with her, but he was nervous again to tell her about yesterday.

“Snacks,” she told him, swinging the basket back and forth as they stepped outside. “I haven’t eaten yet, and I figured you hadn’t either.”

“You always think of everything,” he chuckled, giving her a small smile.

“One should always be prepared,” she teased, teal eyes sparkling. Gods she was lovely.

He chuckled again in response; his thoughts too scattered to tease back. As he took her in his arms to winnow, he asked her one last time if she was sure about going. She nodded, and then he swept them into his shadows.

A moment later he was setting her down on a grassy hill covered with trees that overlooked a grand estate. It was the ideal spot to view the entire backside of the house, including its sprawling gardens.

It belonged to a lord that Mor and he suspected was interfering in treaty negotiations. They had discussed it with Rhys and decided they should start monitoring him. It was last minute, so Azriel had not wanted to abruptly move one of his other spies for the job. Which meant it was left to him.

He watched Gwyn for a moment, looking for any indication of fear or anxiety, but she seemed fine. His shadows, shielding them from sight, whispered their agreement. He shouldn’t have been worried; he knew how brave she was.

He strode to a small outcropping, almost entirely hidden in the trees, and settled himself against a large tree trunk. Gwyn sat down next to him, placing the basket of snacks next to her as she started pulling out random items. He watched her but remained quiet. This was the perfect time to talk to her, but he wasn’t sure where to start. He needed to organize his thoughts first.

“Strawberries or apples?” She offered, holding up both options.

He silently took the apple from her, pulling out Truth-Teller in the process. He bumped his leg against hers in thanks before turning his head to watch the sprawling estate. As he slowly sliced his apple, he tried getting his mind in order. He knew he needed to tell her about everything, but he was terrified Gwyn would be hurt.

He mulled over how to approach the discussion as he slipped an apple slice into Gwyn’s palm. She looked up at him and smiled, then popped the slice into her mouth.

“Thank you,” she said as he cut two more slices of apple, one for him and another for her. “I’ve never done this whole spying thing, am I supposed to be quiet all night or can I talk?”

“Normally I’m alone, so there’s not much talking involved,” he responded, her irreverence bringing the ghost of a smile to his lips. “But you can talk tonight. We’re just watching to see if anyone comes or goes. No need to be silent the whole time.”

“Okay, good. I didn’t want to ruin your reputation as the brooding Spymaster of the Night Court by chattering too much.”

He couldn’t stop the broad grin her response brought to his face. No one ever teased him quite like her. Most people didn’t have the nerve. But she did, and he loved it.

He quietly watched her munch on more of her snacks, occasionally handing him random bits. He tried to focus on observing the estate, but his thoughts kept drifting. One second he was worried about telling Gwyn what was on his mind, the next he was imagining what her lips would feel like on his. It was maddening.

“Can we play a game?” She suddenly asked.

She was looking up at him through her lashes, eyes full of playful mischief. He paused his apple slicing midmotion, heat rushing through him. Did she have any idea the effect she had on him?

“What kind of game?” he inquired, slightly amused by her flirting. He didn’t need convincing, but he liked when she tried. “A question for a question or something else?”

“I was thinking something similar.”

“Like what?”

“How about a secret for a secret?”

“Isn’t that essentially the same thing?”

“No, they’re quite different.”

He raised his eyebrows at her. “How so?”

She chewed on another apple slice before responding. “Well, a secret for a secret means we have to tell the other something that we weren’t asked. It’s a statement not an answer.”

He thought about her idea, chewing on his bottom lip. This was an opportunity to talk to her. The moment he’d been putting off. He needed to do this.

“Okay,” Azriel said, seeming to shock her out of some reverie.

“What?” She asked, eyes wide. Had she been distracted by him?

“Let’s play your game, a secret for a secret,” he smirked, popping a strawberry in his mouth before continuing. “Who goes first?”

“Oh, um, I can,” she stumbled out, flustered. She looked so damn cute when she was like this. It selfishly eased his nerves.

She took her time thinking, pulling out peanut butter cookies and handing one to him while chewing on the other. It was another moment before she finally spoke.

“I like when you hold my hand.”

As her secret settled between them, a slow smile crept onto his face. She may have thought her secret was inconsequential, but it meant everything to him. That she trusted him enough to touch her in any way was already an honor, but that she liked touching him – there weren’t words to describe how it made him feel.

He took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles as he held her gaze. Silently thanking her for her confession.

“I like holding your hand too,” he murmured against their joined hands before setting them in his lap. “My turn now?”

She nodded, patiently waiting for him. He didn’t let himself think about his next few words, only knowing he needed to talk to her or he might lose his mind.

“I’m scared that if you learn about my past, you’ll run away from me.”

The words came out in a rush, escaping his mouth before he could regret them. He had just put himself completely at Gwyn’s mercy, exposing his heart in entirely unfamiliar ways.

Her face went slack. From fear or shock, he wasn’t sure. It terrified him. He was utterly vulnerable to her, unable to hide anything now if he wanted to. He tried to steel himself for whatever she was about to say.

But he couldn’t prevent the hurt that flooded him as she removed her hand from his. His stomach dropped. He couldn’t think clearly through his confusion, barely noticing her move to her knees in front of him. But then she was throwing her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her.

He stiffened at the unexpected touch, but quickly melted. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist, clinging to her. He couldn’t process what was happening, but he didn’t care. Gwyn was in his arms, holding him. Nothing else mattered.

“Azriel, why would you ever think that?” She questioned unsteadily. “I already know you. There’s nothing you can tell me now that would make me run. I promise.”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, tucking his head into the crook of her neck, emotion almost choking him. “I do terrible things for my job and I’ve been a complete fool for five centuries. I’m scared that if I tell you about those things, you’ll hate me.”

He could feel her body shaking against his. Was she crying? He couldn’t bring himself to pull away enough to find out.

“First of all, I already know most of what you do for your job,” she began, and now he could feel a few tears drop onto his hair. “I understand what you do. It is okay. Second, I am aware that you are considerably older than me. I kind of expected that you had been dumb at some point. Again, it is okay. And third, I could never hate you. You can tell me anything. I promise.”

He couldn’t respond around the lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure he even knew how to explain to her what her words meant to him; the walls she had just shattered with her simple speech. So he just gripped her tighter, clinging to her until he found some semblance of control again. When he finally loosened his hold on her, she withdrew enough to look at him.

“I’m sorry if I ruined your game,” he shyly apologized. There was more he needed to say, but it could wait. He wanted to enjoy this moment with her.

“It’s okay,” she assured him with a smile, briskly brushing any stray tears away. “I knew something was off with you, so I kind of walked into that.”

He chuckled. She never missed anything.

“I haven’t been in the greatest mood, have I?”

She shook her head in confirmation, still kneeling next to him, as a glimmer of the unflinching determination he loved so much returned to her face.

“You’ve just been a little bit distant, that’s all. But I refuse to allow this solemnness to continue.”

“Oh, really,” he mused, enjoying her mischief. “Is that so?”

“Yes. I simply won’t have it,” she said with mock sternness. “I have decided I need you to be happy, so I am sending good vibes your way.”

“And what if I don’t accept your good vibes?” He teased, playing her game.

“There’s nothing you can do about it,” she told him, beginning to blow kisses at him. “It’s too late. I already sent good vibes your way. They’re coming.”

She continued blowing kisses as he burst into laughter. He jokingly caught them in his hand and tucked them by his heart.

“This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up,” he laughed.

“Good. We don’t want people thinking you’re going soft now, do we?”

“Of course not,“ he agreed, happy that she was happy.

How had he managed to find his way into this incredible female’s heart? He constantly stumbled and made mistakes, yet here she was. Trying to cheer him up. Letting him hold her as long as he needed. He would never stop being in awe of her.

He grabbed her hand and pulled their joined hands into his lap again as she sat back down next to him, leaning her head against his shoulder. He shivered at her touch.

“We don’t have to keep playing my game,” she assured him gently after a moment. “But could you possibly tell me what else was bothering you? There is something else, isn’t there?”

“Yes, there is,” he sighed, knowing he couldn’t keep putting this off. She needed to know. “But before I tell you, I need you to understand something.”

“What?”

He turned to look at her, taking her face in his free hand. She met his stare, waiting.

“I need you to know that you are the only female I have feelings for. You are the only one I want to be with. Nothing I am about to tell you changes that, okay?”

She nodded obediently, but he knew she didn’t understand why he was telling her this. He silently prayed to any god that would listen that he wasn’t about to lose her. He studied her face, trying to calm himself, then went on.

“And when I am explaining this to you, don’t freak out until the end. Please.”

“Azriel, I’m not going to freak out at all.”

“Gwyn, please,” he pressed, fear setting in.

“I promise. You can tell me.”

He took a deep breath but accepted her response. She silently waited. After a few minutes, he turned toward the estate again and began speaking.

“I met Mor when we were both very young. She was everything I thought I needed. Sunshine personified. I fell in love almost instantly. Then one of the worst days of my life happened and she almost died,” he paused, thinking about his next words. “I won’t go into detail about it – it’s her story to tell – but at the end of it, I tried confessing my feelings to her and she rejected me. I thought I understood why. I thought it was just because I wasn’t worthy of her, that she didn’t want a bastard-born nobody. Until yesterday.”

He stopped, needing to breathe for a minute, and ran a shaking hand through his hair. His stomach was in knots. What would Gwyn think of him after this? Would she think he didn’t care about her as much? He couldn’t bare it if she was hurt.

His worry was interrupted when she unexpectedly started stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. He focused on the sensation until he was calm enough to continue.

“I never spy on Mor, or anyone in my family if I can avoid it. I don’t like invading their privacy. And with her, I never wanted to know if she was with someone. I knew she took lovers, but I deliberately avoided thinking about who they were. I didn’t want to know. But I came home early yesterday, hoping to surprise you. Except I found Mor and Emerie first. I stumbled on them…kissing…in the training ring. I tried to walk out, but Mor noticed me.”

He paused again, taking deep, shuddering breaths. With each word he spoke, the pit in his stomach deepened. He couldn’t look at Gwyn. He was too scared she wouldn’t see him the same way now. He forged ahead with his story.

“I kept trying to walk away, but she forced me to stay. Then she apologized for not loving me in the way I had wanted for so long. She explained that it was her own preferences – ones I had been blind to – that prevented her from loving me in that way. That stopped her from loving any male that way. I spent so long thinking I wasn’t worthy of her love, just to find out I had been too fucking blind to realize it had nothing to do with me.”

He finally stopped, his breathing ragged and heart pounding. Gwyn began rubbing a hand up and down his arm, continuing her gentle stroking of his hand with her other. Her touch soothed him, allowing him to breathe more evenly.

She hadn’t run away yet. That had to be a good sign. He had just confessed his biggest secret and she was still here. But how the hell was she so calm?

“Az,” she softly said, drawing him back to her. “Azriel, are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” he responded, squeezing her hand but not yet looking at her. Words continued to tumble out of him as he tried making sense of everything. “I just feel like such a fool. I wasted five centuries pining for someone all because I was oblivious to what was right in front of me. And what if I had kept pining? I could have lost you because of it.”

That was what he was truly terrified of. What he felt the most shame for. He had been wrong, so incredibly wrong. It could have cost him everything.

“But you didn’t,” she reminded him, still utterly calm. “I’m right here. Nothing you said changes that.”

“Aren’t you upset though?” he asked, at last turning to meet her gaze. He couldn’t make sense of her reaction. “You seem so calm. How? Am I missing something, Gwyn?”

“Kind of,” she confessed, blushing slightly.

“Gwyn…please elaborate,” he prodded. She wasn’t reacting at all how he had expected. Would she ever stop shocking him so much?

“Azriel, I already knew about Mor and Emerie,” she slowly explained. “I walked in on them weeks ago. I assumed that you knew too.”

Understanding dawned as she spoke, quickly followed by more confusion.

“Wait…so you knew about Emerie and Mor,” he clarified. “But…I’m still lost Gwyn. You don’t seem shocked about anything I said.”

She looked away from him to stare at their joined hands, picking at invisible lint on her pants. What was happening? He needed her to explain. He lifted her chin with a finger, forcing her to look at him.

“Gwyn…tell me. Please,“ he begged.

“Az, I…I already knew about most of what you just told me,” she explained, sounding almost guilty. It further perplexed him.

“Gwyn, what do you mean? How could you have known?”

“Well, I didn’t know exactly what had happened, but I knew there had been something between you and Mor. Nesta told me months ago, before I even realized I had feelings for you. Then when I found out about Mor and Emerie, I assumed Mor’s preferences were the reason you weren’t with her. I thought you knew.”

He blinked. She had known everything this whole time. He had been almost sick with fear and she had already known. He needed to move; he couldn’t sit here anymore. He abruptly stood, leaving Gwyn’s side and pacing back and forth. He knew she was waiting for a response, but he needed to think.

Would he ever get better at this? He was a fucking spymaster for gods sake. Maybe that was the problem. He was always so focused on the details that he kept missing the bigger picture. Of course Gwyn would know. She was best friends with Emerie and Nesta, who was with Cassian. How could she not have known about his feelings for Mor?

He ran his hands across his face before sitting back down as suddenly as he had gotten up.

“I am so fucking stupid,” he burst out, shaking his head in bewilderment. “I’ve spent all day worrying about how I would explain this to you. Worried you would think it meant I didn’t care about you. But you’re not even shocked.”

“I’m sorry you were anxious about telling me,” she soothed him, taking his hand back in hers. “But you never have any reason to think I would be upset with you for your past. Your feelings for her _are_ in the past, aren’t they?”

“Of course!” He blurted immediately, whipping his head toward her so fast his neck cracked. There was no way in hell he was letting her think for one second that he had feelings for anyone else. "Gwyn, I promise you have nothing to worry about. I don’t know when I finally stopped having feelings for her, but I promise it is in the past. You are the only female I want. Please tell me you know that.”

“Of course, Az,” she reassured him, her words flooding him with relief. “I trust you. But Az…there’s still part of this we haven’t addressed.”

“What part?” he hesitantly asked. What was he missing now?

“Why would you ever call yourself a bastard-born nobody? Or think you’re unworthy of love?”

He was stunned…again. Out of everything he had said tonight, this is what had bothered her. This is what she was upset about. He didn’t know how to respond.

“I…it seemed logical,” he quietly said, looking at the ground, unsure what else to say. She lifted his chin with her finger; it was her turn to make him look at her now.

“I never want to hear you say those things again,” she firmly told him, tears welling in her beautiful eyes. “You are wonderful, and marvelous and so, so worth it. Promise me you won’t ever say those horrible words again.”

All he could manage was a nod. In the span of one evening, she had single-handedly disarmed him of any remaining resistance he had. Any piece of him that wasn’t already hers was now succumbing. He would crawl on his knees for her if she asked. Anything she wanted; he would find a way to give it to her. She deserved everything, including an apology.

“Gwyn, I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” he quietly said, putting a finger to her lips as she tried to cut him off. “I just felt so foolish for not seeing things sooner. And I was angry at myself for making Mor feel like she couldn’t tell me. I didn’t want to burden you with that.”

“Az, it wouldn’t burden me,” she promised, her face full of trust and reassurance. “You thought you had found your person, but it didn’t work out. That is nothing to be ashamed of. And with Mor, I don’t think it was your fault. I think she was just scared.”

“I know, I just wished she felt safe enough to tell me. I still care about her. She’s family, no matter what.”

“Yes, which means the best thing you can do now is support her,” she instructed. “Now that you both understand everything, you should both be there for each other.”

“You’re sure it’s not weird? For you, I mean. All of this.”

She shook her head. “I’ve already had months to wrap my head around the basic idea. As long as you aren’t still pining, then I’m perfectly comfortable with it. I like Mor.”

He chuckled, slowly returning to a more peaceful state. “I promise I am not still pining…for anyone but you.”

She blushed, smiling down at her hands. She was a wonder. One that he would never get used to.

They sat there for a minute, letting themselves process everything they had discussed. After a while, Gwyn spoke.

“So, since you technically just revealed a rather big secret, does this mean I should tell you a secret now?”

“Only if you want to,” he told her. She had already given him more tonight than he ever could have imagined tonight. She owed him nothing, not even a secret.

“I want to…but you have to promise you won’t tease me for it.”

“I won’t,” he vowed, watching her steadily as she took a deep breath and blurted…

“I want you to kiss me.”

Her secret caught him thoroughly off guard. There was no hiding his shock as his eyes went wide and his jaw sagged. She blushed deeply, sending his mind into an absolute frenzy.

He didn’t even care if she noticed his scent shift. He had been waiting for her to ask him this since their dinner. His features involuntarily twisted into a smile of pure triumph.

He gently pulled away from her, never once taking his eyes off her. He got on his knees, facing her as she had done earlier. As he slowly leaned towards her, he soaked in the sweet smell of her arousal. Every muscle in his body tightened, heat coursed through him.

He tenderly took her face in his hands, bringing his head down to her level, so close their breaths mingled. Just before he lowered his mouth to hers, he paused.

“Are you sure?” he whispered. It was taking every ounce of self-control he possessed to keep from devouring her mouth, but he needed her consent. She nodded, seeming incapable of speech.

And then his mouth was finally on hers. Their lips softly moving together – exploring, tasting. It was gentle, unhurried. He wanted to take his time. To taste every inch. To finally learn what made this lovely female surrender.

He felt her slip arms slip and bury her hands in his hair, unexpectedly pulling him closer. She was warm and utterly pliant in his arms, pressing into him eagerly.

She suddenly opened completely for him, letting him explore more of her. As he gradually deepened the kiss, she moaned into his mouth. The sound was his undoing. He tightened his grip on her, drawing her closer, deeper. The kiss turned almost frantic. Both of them desperate to taste more, feel more.

He was on fire. Every movement of her lips sending him spiraling into an abyss of ecstasy. But they needed to stop. Before things went too far.

He let himself revel in her for one more moment, then forced himself to tear his mouth away. He dropped his head onto her shoulder, unable to completely let go of her. They were both panting, taking deep, ragged breaths. She held on to him as he tried to regather the ability to function.

They sat like that for several minutes, both needing to catch their breaths and come back to reality. After what seemed like forever, he managed to withdraw enough to look at her. She just stared at him; eyes slightly glazed.

“Gwyn, are you okay?” He asked, voice shaky, worried he had pushed her too much. “Did I go too far?”

She shook her head, but it wasn’t enough to reassure him. He needed words. Luckily, she seemed to see his fear and gave him the response he was seeking.

“Azriel, I’m fine,” she breathlessly said, her beautiful mouth now swollen. “I’m perfect. Really.”

He only nodded, too disoriented from their kiss to do anything else. That kiss had been everything. He had never felt anything like it, and he wanted more. It was all he could do to not take her back into his arms and continue where they had left off.

He slowly settled himself next to her again, brazenly wrapping her in his arms this time. He realized a moment too late how forward he was being, but she didn’t object, simply leaning deeper into his chest. He lost himself in the moment, content to just be with her, but she suddenly spoke, dragging him back.

“Azriel?”

“Hmmm?”

“I think we may have failed our mission.”

He chuckled, “Why’s that?”

“Because we were supposed to be spying.”

“I have been spying,” he assured her, running a hand lightly across her back. “What do you think my shadows have been doing this whole time? Besides keeping us hidden.”

“Ooohh, I see.”

She settled quietly against his chest again, seeming satisfied with his explanation. He held onto her, reveling in her warmth and closeness. They sat there for a while longer in comfortable silence before she spoke again.

“Azriel?”

“Yes, Gwyn?”

“Will you teach me how to be a spy?”

Out of everything he could have guessed she would have asked, that was near the bottom of the list. He stiffened slightly in shock before pulling her away to study her face.

“You want to learn how to be a spy?” He questioned; brow raised.

“Yes,” she nodded, not so much as a trace of hesitation. He pulled her back into him, returning them to their previous position.

“I can start training you next week, whenever you have time,“ he promised, not seeing any point in arguing. "I suppose we could turn our nighttime trips to the training ring into spy training instead.”

Satisfied, she murmured her agreement. He let himself drift off again, enjoying every blissful second of being with her.

They sat in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms, until late into the night. Only leaving once he was satisfied nothing was happening at the estate. Gwyn was half dozing against his chest by the time he scooped her up and winnowed them home. He carried her all the way to the library doors before finally setting her down.

They murmured their good nights, both exhausted but happy. Just before she was about to leave, she turned back to him and lightly grabbed his wrist, pulling him toward her. He obediently yielded to her, letting her take the lead.

She placed her hands on his chest and stood on her tippy toes – forcing him to bend slightly to her level – and kissed him deeply. He let her decide when to end the kiss, enjoying how long she lingered, until she quietly stepped away and disappeared into the library. He stood in the hallway for several long minutes, staring after her, lost in the memory of her gentle kiss.


	8. Library Chats and Naps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This scene is a little different. The first half is from Gwyn’s perspective, and the second half is from someone else. It will make sense when you read it though.

Gwyn scratched out another sentence of her work in frustration. She had made so many errors writing down various bits of research that the paper was covered with scribbles. Merrill would never accept it.

She sighed, annoyed with herself. She was too distracted to get any more work done. At least it was late in the afternoon; she could almost call it quits for the day. At her sigh, Azriel poked his head up from his book, concern in his hazel eyes.

They were sitting deep within the library, her at a work desk and him on a sofa adjacent to her. She had sprawled out in the cozy nook to work on her research because it was secluded and located near the section she needed.

Azriel had found her a few hours ago, research for Rhys a thin excuse for his visit. He was now sprawled on the sofa reading “Theories of the Universe and Stars.” So much for his research. She didn’t mind though. She enjoyed when he came and spent time with her in the library.

“That’s about the 10th time you’ve sighed in less than an hour,” Azriel remarked. “Care to tell me what’s wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong,” she insisted, knowing he would see right through her lie. She was beyond anxious, her thoughts a jumbled mess of indecision.

It had been three weeks since the training session that now held a special place in her heart. That day had turned out to be the happiest of accidents; but she had also made a bet that day. And while she may have won, she had promised she would consider Azriel’s side of the bet.

Now she was a week away from Mor’s birthday party and more nervous about it than ever. She wanted to go, but it scared her for more reasons than one. She had never been to a party like that before, let alone one with Azriel’s family. What if she panicked? What if everyone thought it was strange that she was with Azriel? She knew Nesta wouldn’t care, but she wasn’t so sure about everyone else.

“Gwyneth, are you ignoring me now?” Azriel asked, tearing her away from her worries.

“I am not ignoring you,” she protested, annoyed at how relaxed he looked. He had no reason to worry about this ridiculous party. He was free to peacefully lounge on his sofa looking far more handsome than should be allowed. It was infuriating.

“You’re in quite the mood today, Berdara,” he said, closing his book, eyes dancing. The shadows that had settled near her playfully twirled around her, echoing their master’s mood. Despite her annoyance, she smiled slightly.

“I am not in a mood,” she shot back, giving into his efforts to get her talking. “I am merely contemplating my future decisions and you interrupted.”

“Do these future decisions involve me?” He questioned, standing up and stretching luxuriously before walking over to her desk. He sat on the edge, waiting for an answer. She contemplated ignoring him but decided playing nice would earn her better rewards.

“Yes, the plans do involve you,” she told him with a sweet smile. His eyes dropped to her lips, as she knew they would. “But since you’re forcing me to confess my secrets, shouldn’t I get something in return.”

“Of course, my lady,” he flirted back, catching onto her game. “What would you like?”

She closed her eyes in response, tilting her head up toward him. To her pleasure, he understood almost immediately. His hands cupped her face, drawing her closer. Then his lips were on hers, leisurely exploring her mouth and instantly making her forget all her worries.

She could do this all day. In the two weeks since he had first kissed her, they had spent as much time as possible together. Training in the mornings, lunches when they both had time, spy training at night and stolen kisses anytime they could fit them in. Lots and lots of kisses.

She could lose herself in Azriel’s kiss. He was thorough and gentle in a way that made her toes curl. She constantly wanted more, much like right now. But to her dismay, he pulled away just as the kiss was about to turn more heated.

“Was that the reward you were looking for, Berdara,” he asked, breathing heavily. “Or was there something else you wanted?”

Oh yes, there was definitely something else she wanted, but she knew he wouldn’t give it to her yet. His kisses were perfect, but he was always so careful. Never putting his hands anywhere that was not respectful and never drawing out the kiss long enough to lose control. It was driving her mad. She knew he was only trying to be conscious of her boundaries, but a part of her wanted him to lose a small amount of his unbreakable self-control. Cauldron knows she did with him.

“No, you delivered perfectly,” she assured him, blushing slightly at her own thoughts.

“Good,” he responded with a self-satisfied smirk. It should have annoyed her, but it only made her want to kiss him more. “So, will you tell me what’s bothering you now?”

She should tell him. He would listen to her no matter how silly he thought she was being. She met his stare and huffed a sigh before speaking.

“I’ll tell you, but you can’t laugh at me.”

“I promise I will not laugh,” he swore, crossing his heart in mock seriousness. “I will remain entirely silent until you’re finished.”

“Fine,” she conceded, feeling anxious again. “Do you remember our bet from a few weeks ago, the one we made the day you took me to dinner?”

He nodded, keeping his promise of silence.

“Well, I know I won the bet, so I don’t have to go to Mor’s birthday, but I want to. Except, I’m scared. I’ve been thinking about it for days and I still can’t decide if I should go or not.”

He raised his eyebrows as she paused, silently asking her for more information. She hesitated. Now that she was saying everything, it all seemed so ridiculous. But it was too late now, so she trudged forward.

“I’m scared to go to the party because I’m worried I’ll panic and ruin it. But I’m also scared because your whole family will be there. What if they don’t like me? We haven’t told anyone we’re together. What if they don’t approve?”

By the time she was finished, her voice had become impossibly small. Azriel had gotten progressively more still as she spoke, barely even breathing it seemed. She looked down at the desk in embarrassment.

“Am I allowed to speak now?” he quietly asked, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. She nodded but didn’t look up.

“Okay, you said a lot of different things, so bear with me as I address them,” he gently said, taking her hand in his. “First, I know you’re scared. I’ve taken you to Velaris before. This would be no different. If you want to come home, I will take you home. Okay?”

“Yes, but –”

“But nothing,” he cut her off, lifting her chin with a finger. “Second, everyone already loves you. That won’t change just because we’re together now. And third, I don’t care if anyone approves of you or not. Their opinion has no impact on my feelings for you.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he stopped her again, anticipating her rebuttal.

“Gwyn, I’m serious, you have nothing to worry about in regard to my family,” he insisted, steadily holding her gaze. “This relationship is between us, not anyone else. Besides, they already adore you almost as much as I do. It will be fine. Okay?”

She reluctantly nodded, pouting slightly. Everything he had said made perfect sense, which made her feel even sillier. Here she was worrying herself sick over Mor’s party and he had no concerns at all about it. It wasn’t fair.

“You’re probably right, but I don’t understand how you’re so calm about this,” she finally said, irrationally annoyed with his steady demeanor. “How are you not worried at all?”

He chuckled at her obvious irritation, but didn’t comment on it, instead continuing his efforts to soothe her.

“For starters, I have been to all of Mor’s birthdays for five centuries, they don’t worry me,” he patiently explained, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. “Second, I’ve been to Rita’s gods know how many times. And third, because I’m not worried about anyone seeing me with you. I know they’ll love you because they already do.”

“But what if they think it’s odd that I’m with you?” She pushed, refusing to accept his very logical answers. “What if they find it strange that we’re together, as more than friends?”

“Gwyn, I promise you they won’t,” he responded, slight exasperation showing. “They might be shocked, but that’s all.”

She huffed and abruptly stood, grabbing a stack of books from the desk in the process. She stormed off, returning her books as she went. Azriel was right, she knew he was, but that didn’t stop her from being irritated. It wasn’t that she was actually mad at him for being right, she just wanted to be annoyed for a moment.

She heard him catch up with her just as she tried returning her last book to its home, except the shelf was slightly too high. She was about to get a ladder, when Azriel came up behind her, grabbing the book from her hands. He easily returned it to its spot on the shelf. She couldn’t help but laugh; he was so tall.

“That’s annoying you know,” she told him teasingly, all aggravation fading.

“What? It’s not my fault you’re short,” he joked back, so close she could feel his warmth on her back. Her heart started beating faster.

“I am not short,” she insisted, enjoying their banter. He could always make her smile, even when she didn’t want to.

“You may be taller than most females but compared to me – you’re short.”

She turned her head enough to stick her tongue out at him. “That’s only because you’re an overgrown bat.”

He jokingly put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “Hey, that’s mean!”

“You started it!”

“Fine, you’re not short.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“You are not short,” he pressed, hesitantly wrapping his arms around her waist from behind. She leaned into him, welcoming his touch. She felt him relax behind her.

“Then what am I?” she replied, his warmth soothing her.

He rested his chin on her head as he said, “The perfect size for me to do this.”

“I suppose that’s acceptable,” she allowed, pressing herself tighter against him. Gods it felt good being so close. “But I would like further proof that I’m not short.”

“Now you’re just fishing for compliments,” he said, his voice dropping to a low rumble. It gave her goosebumps.

“Perhaps.”

She could feel him suppressing laughter as he leaned his face into the crook of her neck. Her head was swimming. If they stood like this any longer, she might faint.

“If you were short then I wouldn’t stare at your legs so much,” he mumbled into her, sending another round of goosebumps across her skin.

“And how much do you stare at them?” she asked, trying to sound unfazed, but her shaking voice betrayed her. Did he have any idea what he was doing to her?

“Constantly,” he drawled in her ear, his deep voice resonating in her bones. “I can’t stop thinking about having your long, gorgeous legs wrapped around me.”

She couldn’t think straight. That was his plan, she was sure of it. And it was working. Warmth was pooling below her stomach, and a flush had crept up her neck. Thoughts of him that she had never thought she would be capable of were swirling through her head. Only with him did she ever react like this. He was the only male she felt safe enough to allow this kind of reaction.

"You’re just trying to distract me now,” she breathlessly replied, knowing it was impossible to hide her body’s reaction. He was too close to her; he would sense everything.

“Is it working?”

“Yes, and I’m very angry with you for it,” she said, attempting to put some force behind her words. She didn’t want to look too weak, even if she was enjoying this.

She felt him smile against her skin. “Your scent is saying something wildly different than your mouth, Berdara.”

Annoyance flooded her, overriding her previous thoughts. He was perfectly calm and controlled again while she could barely form coherent thoughts. It wasn’t fair. She was going to figure out how to get under his skin if it killed her. Maybe she would ask Nesta for advice, or Mor.

She pulled out of his arms and glared at him. “I can smell your scent too, so bite me.”

“Gladly, if my lady requests it,” he roguishly replied, laughing.

She stalked back to her desk, refusing to grace him with a response. He obediently followed, plopping down on his sofa when they reached their nook.

“You’re infuriating,” she scolded him, furiously stacking papers on the desk.

“Maybe,” he conceded, a small smile on his lips. “But my plan worked.”

“I’m still mad at you,” she replied, although her annoyance was already fading, a smile tugging at her mouth. She could never stay mad at him for long.

“As long as you’re still smiling, then I’ll take it,” he said, going back to his book.

She let herself fully smile as she returned to her work, carefully organizing her research into neat piles. But eventually thoughts of Mor’s party returned, distracting her once again.

“Azriel?”

“Yes?”

“I really am nervous,” she admitted. “I’ve never gone to a party like this.”

“I know,” he closed his book, studying her face before opening his arms for her. “Come here.”

She obediently walked over to him and let him pull her onto the sofa next to him. He tucked her into his side, wrapping his arms comfortingly around her.

“I know you’re scared,” he assured her, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “But I promise I will not leave your side. If you want to come home at any point, I will take you.”

“Okay,” she quietly conceded against his chest, nuzzling deeper into his strong body. “But this means I need to go shopping for Mor’s birthday present.”

“I haven’t gone shopping either,” he confessed, lightly running a hand through her hair. “How about we go tomorrow evening. We can make it a date?”

“I’d like that,” she replied, unable to stop her eyes from beginning to flutter. She was so tired, and he was so warm.

“Do you mind if I read?” He softly asked, grazing her cheek with his knuckles. She gently took his hand, holding it close to her. She nodded against him, too far gone to form words.

He began reading his book out loud, his low voice washing over her. She idly started tracing the scars on his hand, letting her eyes close. Before she completely drifted off, she felt the book fall gently against her hip as Azriel’s voice faded.

His heart rate slowed against her, telling her he had fallen asleep. His wings softly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm embrace. She placed a whisper of a kiss to his knuckles before allowing herself to be swept away by the soothing caress of his shadows and steady sound of his breathing.

## 

##  **Nesta POV**

“They have to be somewhere down here,” Nesta assured Cassian, Mor and Rhys as she led them down into the library. They were looking for Azriel and Gwyn because they were both late for their evening plans; Azriel for poker with the boys, and Gwyn for a girls’ night in.

“Are you sure they’ll even be in the same place?” Rhys questioned.

“Yes, because they’re _just friends_ ,” Cassian answered, making air quotes as he spoke. Nesta allowed herself a small smile. Gwyn and Azriel hadn’t said anything to either of them, but Cassian and she were positive something was going on.

They had started taking bets a few weeks ago about when Az and Gwyn would admit to it. Now almost everyone except Azriel and Gwyn were involved. Even Lucien had joined the betting pool and he hadn’t even seen them together.

Nesta wanted to win, so she was selfishly hoping Az and Gwyn would tell them in the next few days. If anything happened now, she would win. Everyone else had either already lost or was betting it would take much longer.

But whether she won or lost, Nesta just hoped Gwyn was happy, and Az too. They were perfect for each other; she hoped they wouldn’t throw it away. Gwyn challenged Azriel and saw through his cold exterior; something Nesta had never seen anyone else do. And Azriel never treated Gwyn with pity, only admiration and soft humor, something Nesta knew helped Gwyn become more confident in herself. Azriel would be a fool if he let Gwyn get away.

“I have wine, chocolate and Emerie waiting for me upstairs,” Mor remarked as they descended another level, breaking Nesta from her musings. “They better be down here, or I’ll riot.”

“They’ll be down here, I promise,” Nesta consoled her, a slight smile at the mention of Emerie.

Nesta had already known about Mor and Emerie, but Mor had unexpectedly confessed to everyone two weeks ago. Nesta knew Mor had been terrified, so she was proud she had found the courage to be open with everyone. Mor had become her friend just as much as Emerie was. She wanted them both to be happy.

“As long as we find them soon, I don’t care where they are,” Cassian grumbled. “I just want dinner.”

Nesta threw a long-suffering look at her mate as they rounded another corner, close to where she thought the couple in question might be. Rhys and Mor just laughed, used to Cassian’s antics.

They walked around one more row of bookshelves before the reading nook Nesta had been leading them to finally appeared. All four of them froze, a stunned silence falling over them. Even Nesta had not expected the sight that greeted her.

Directly in front of them, sprawled on a sofa sleeping, were Gwyn and Azriel. Gwyn was practically lying on top of Azriel, a book abandoned on her hip just below where one of Azriel’s hands rested on her waist. His wings were cocooning the two of them, with his shadows wrapping protectively around them. Azriel’s free hand was tucked close to Gwyn’s lips, almost like she had fallen asleep just after kissing his hand. And they both looked utterly peaceful, gently breathing in tandem.

“Well, well, well,” Cassian drawled, the first to recover himself enough to speak. “So, this is what it looks like to be _just friends_ with someone.”

His words brought Nesta out of her shock, a slow smile working its way onto her features. She had been right. There was no denying that something was going on with Gwyn and Azriel now. A flood of happiness and pride washed over her.

“I never thought I would ever see Azriel so…soft,” Rhys slowly said, appearing to struggle with words. Nesta couldn’t blame him. She was thrilled, but it was somewhat unexpected. Gwyn and Azriel had been friends for months without admitting to anything. She had begun to worry they never would, but clearly, they had.

“Oh. My. Goodness,” Mor squealed, her face twisting into a look of pure delight. The sound startled Azriel and Gwyn enough to rouse them, both slowly opening their eyes and taking in their surroundings. They abruptly sat up straight, eyes wide, as they realized they weren’t alone.

“Soooo, just friends, huh?” Cassian teased them, a wicked grin on his face. Nesta and Rhys burst into laughter as Gwyn and Az instantly went a deep shade of crimson. “When did this happen?”

“A while ago,” Azriel sheepishly admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. Gwyn nodded shyly in agreement, looking everywhere but at anyone’s face. Nesta couldn’t help but feel a burst of joy. Her friends were happy, just as she’d hoped.

“Well, now you _have_ to come to my birthday party,” Mor said ecstatically, bouncing on her heels. “You owe me for keeping this a secret.”

Azriel huffed a laugh, clearly lost for words. Gwyn just blushed deeper as Mor bounded over to them, placing a pat on Azriel’s head and pulling Gwyn up from the sofa. Gwyn looked to Az for help, but he shrugged his shoulders as if to say, “there’s nothing I can do.”

“You’re coming with me,” Mor announced, dragging Gwyn behind her. “You’re late for girls’ night and I need details.”

Nesta watched Mor pull Gwyn with her as she began ascending up the library, then she turned back to the males in front of her. Cassian and Rhys were looking at Azriel with nothing short of utter mischief on their faces. Az was going to be interrogated just as thoroughly as Gwyn was tonight. Nesta couldn’t help but laugh a little at the thought.

“Have fun boys,” Nesta told them, turning to leave. “But don’t spend all your money tonight. You all owe me.”

All three of the males turned to her in indignation, looks of horror replacing their mirth. She smiled coyly at them, confident in their defeat.

“We had a bet,” she reminded them. “And I just won.”

She left them standing in shock, too amused to wait for their response. She slowly followed Mor and Gwyn up to the main house, excited to spend an evening with her best friends.


	9. Cocktail Interrogations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting time after this one will slow down. This chapter and all the previous ones are scenes I have transferred from a different site. Everything after this is still a work in progress. I will update as regularly as I can.

“Okay, tell us everything,” Mor finally said to Gwyn after what seemed like forever.

Gwyn had been dragged from the library by Mor and Nesta after they found her asleep on a sofa with Azriel. Now they were camped out in the private library in the House of Wind with Emerie. It was girls’ night, which meant plenty of food, wine and chit chat about their lives, including any romances. Normally she was the one interrogating them, but tonight Emerie, Nesta and Mor were staring at her like hungry vultures.

When they had arrived upstairs, Mor had immediately announced to Emerie that Azriel and Gwyn were together. The squeal Emerie had let out was still ringing in Gwyn’s ears. Once they had gotten comfortable in the library, the three females had turned their full attention on her, desperate to know about her and Azriel.

“What do you want to know,” Gwyn shyly asked, unsure where to start. These were her best friends, but they were so much more experienced than she was. Would they even find any of this interesting? She shook off the thought, determined to enjoy herself tonight.

“Everything,” Emerie pressed, face dancing with merriment. “How about you tell us when it happened. When did you find out he had feelings for you?”

“Umm, it was a few weeks ago,” she slowly began, her blush refusing to budge. Nesta gripped her hand on the sofa next to her, smiling in encouragement. “He took me to dinner at this little restaurant by the water and we started talking and it just sort of happened.”

“Wait, do you mean the dinner you went on after that day in training?” Emerie excitedly asked, sharing a knowing glance with Mor. “The one where you two were all hot and bothered?”

“Yes, that one,” Gwyn reluctantly admitted, rolling her eyes at Emerie’s description. “And we were not hot and bothered.”

“Liar,” Nesta playfully kicked her leg. “I was there, you were definitely hot and bothered.”

“I wish I had been there that day,” Mor whined, her full lips forming a pout. “I want to see Gwyn and Azriel all distracted by each other.”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time for that now,” Emerie wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Gwyn’s blush somehow managed to deepen.

“Do you want to hear my story or not,” she asked, throwing a pillow at Mor and Emerie on the floor in front of her. They nodded eagerly, waiting for her to go on.

She told them about the dinner, leaving out some of the more personal details here and there, then explained to them how both Azriel and she had been afraid of losing the others friendship. Thinking of all the details again made Gwyn’s heart melt.

She couldn’t believe this was real. Azriel was hers. They had not lost their friendship at all, it had only grown deeper. He was her best friend and more now, much more.

“This is the sweetest romance I’ve ever heard,” Mor sniffed, grabbing a tissue from a nearby box. Emerie nodded her agreement. “But what happened after that? That was weeks ago.”

“It’s not that exciting after that,” Gwyn insisted, knowing they wouldn’t let her get away with her vague answer. “We’ve both been busy. We only spend time together when our schedules work out.”

“Oh, don’t start with that,” Nesta replied, face lighting up with mischief. “I know for a fact you two sneak out late at night all the time. Surely something interesting has happened then.”

“It depends on what you consider interesting,” she said, jutting her chin out. “For me, it’s very interesting. For you, it’s probably boring.”

Mor scoffed in offense. Emerie blurted “That’s not true!” And Nesta just shook her head, her face a mix of amusement and astonishment.

Mor took a long sip of her wine, then asked, “Why would you think we would find it boring?”

“I don’t know, you’re all so experienced,” she admitted, playing with the pillow in her lap. Just a few hours ago she was considering asking these same females for advice, yet now she felt shy telling them anything.

“Oh, honey, that doesn’t matter,” Emerie soothed her, patting her on the knee. “We’re excited for you and we want to hear about everything. No detail is too small.”

The other two nodded their consensus, calming Gwyn’s worries. She slowly smiled, suddenly excited to discuss what she had been wanting advice about earlier.

“Most of it has been fairly quiet, just lunches and training dates when we have time,” she began, butterflies building in her stomach. “But…about a week after our dinner, we had our first kiss.”

Mor screamed, Emerie knocked over her wine glass and Nesta almost choked on her drink. They started asking her questions all at once, ranging from “How was it?” to “Did he use tongue?” She giggled at them, finally relaxing.

“Calm down,” She half yelled over their frantic questioning. “I’ll answer all your questions.”

“Okay, good,” Emerie breathed a sigh of relief. “I need answers.”

“Yes, but first, I think this calls for a stronger round of drinks,” Mor said, striding toward the liquor cabinet in the corner. “How about cocktails?”

Once the new drinks were made and they were all settled back in their spots, the girls launched into a lengthy discussion analyzing Azriel’s kissing techniques. By the end of it, they had drunkenly decided from Gwyn’s description that Azriel clearly possessed superior kissing abilities unless proven otherwise.

“So, we now know Azriel is a good kisser,” Nesta stated, sinking back into the sofa. “But you haven’t told us specifically how you feel about it. Are you okay? Being physical with him?”

Gwyn took a long drink from her glass before answering, trying to shake away her nerves. This was her chance to ask for advice. She was with her friends; they wouldn’t judge her for being inexperienced or shy.

“Yes, I think I am,” Gwyn admitted, blushing once again at where her thoughts had gone. “I feel safe with him. Safer than I ever expected to feel with a male.”

It was the truth. She wasn’t afraid of Azriel, not how she was with most males. She wanted to explore things with him. She needed to move slowly to get more comfortable, but she wanted to go on that journey with him. She trusted him.

Her three friends were all looking at her with pride in their faces. Nesta squeezed her hand in support as Mor and Emerie smiled at her. Her eyes welled with happy tears.

“We’re happy for you,” Nesta softly said, voice full of emotion. “And we’re proud of you.”

Gwyn couldn’t respond, gratefulness for her friends’ support overwhelming her. She threw her arms around Nesta and hugged her for a minute, collecting herself. When she pulled away, she brushed away the tears and smiled.

“Thank you. I couldn’t have done this without all of you,” she told them, eyes shining. It was true. They had helped her more than she could ever explain. They all just beamed at her.

“Anyway, I wanted to ask for your advice,” she went on. “Azriel is a wonderful kisser. He’s patient and deliberate and extremely careful with me. Almost too careful sometimes.”

“Oh? Go on,” Mor roguishly replied, eyebrows raising. “What do you mean he’s too careful?”

“Well, when we first kissed,” she slowly explained, trying to find the right words. “It started out slow…but then it shifted into something more…heated. And I liked it. A lot. Like I said, I feel safe with him.”

She stopped, looking to them for support. They all nodded encouragingly, gesturing for her to continue. She obediently went on.

“But ever since then, he always pulls away before it gets to that point again. He’s always so controlled and calm,” she paused, not sure if she was making any sense. “I know he’s just trying not to push me too far, but…I want him to…I don’t know.”

“Be less controlled maybe?” Nesta suggested, eyebrows raised. “You want him to act more like your first kiss, is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes, exactly,” she agreed, glad they understood her. “I just him to be slightly less careful. I want him to relax more. But I don’t know how to get him to do that.”

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” Mor promised matter-of-factly. “You have three experienced females at your disposal. We’ll help you.”

“Absolutely!” Emerie agreed, nodding eagerly. “Ask us anything.”

“I don’t know where to start,” she confessed. She had read plenty of smutty novels, but most of them didn’t discuss situations like this. Maybe she should write a book herself one day.

“Let’s start with that first kiss,” Nesta commanded. “When it turned more heated, what happened? Was there something that maybe could have caused him to react differently.”

She thought back to that night, trying to pinpoint the exact moment Azriel had changed the direction of their kiss. It was all a happy blur of memory, but she tried to focus. There had to be something. Then it hit her.

“Ooooh, I think I know what happened,” she gaped, the realization causing butterflies to erupt in her stomach. She hadn’t realized this might be easier than she thought. “Umm, I think he may have been reacting to something I did.”

“Tell us!” Her friends all chorused, leaning in closer to her.

“I sort of…I umm… I moaned…into him.”

“Gwyneth Berdara!” Emerie screeched, throwing a pillow at her. “You said nothing interesting happened. This is wildly interesting. You MOANED. And he reacted to it!”

“I hadn’t thought about that part,” she coyly smiled as her friends stared at her with wide-eyed amusement. “I now realize the solution to my problem is much easier than I had thought.”

“I’ll say,” Mor replied emphatically, taking a long gulp of her cocktail. “Gwyn, in all the time I’ve known Azriel, I have never seen him lose control over a moan. You’re going to bring him to his knees, and I can’t wait to watch.”

She blushed crimson as her friends burst into laughter. The thought of being able to make Azriel lose some of his carefully trained restraint made her smile to herself. She had never thought she would have that kind of effect on a male. Let alone a male like Azriel. It was a strange feeling to know he reacted to her as much as she did to him.

They continued laughing and drinking, giving Gwyn the courage to ask them for additional advice on how to get Azriel to relax more with her. The three females happily obliged, telling her far more techniques than she had thought possible. By the time Mor and Emerie decided to go to Rita’s, Gwyn had been given more information than she could process.

Nesta and she declined the invitation to join Mor and Emerie, choosing to continue their evening in the library. She leaned back into the sofa, half falling over into Nesta. They laughed, both too tipsy to function properly. But Gwyn felt wonderful. She was with her friends, giggling about the very handsome male who had stolen her heart. Nothing could make her happier at the moment.


	10. Poker and Pleading

Azriel was losing poker, which never happened, but he didn’t care. He was too happy spending time with his brothers and talking about the female who had stolen his heart. The game in front of him didn’t matter.

They were sitting around a table at their favorite local bar, an unremarkable looking place they had frequented since they were young. It offered cheap wine and as many rounds of cards as you could deal. No one ever took a second glance when the high lord and his brothers arrived; one of the many reasons they liked it so much. They could just be.

“So, when did it happen?” Cassian asked, shuffling a deck of cards. They had already been playing for a while, but they were just beginning to discuss the details of his relationship with Gwyn. When they had first arrived, his brothers had been more worried about interrogating him to make sure he was treating Gwyn well. Now that they were satisfied, they wanted details.

“A few weeks ago,” he vaguely responded, twirling his wine glass. “It wasn’t planned or anything, it just sort of happened.”

“Don’t give us that bullshit,” Rhys chided, eyes narrowing good humoredly. “We want details. Not obscure answers.

He huffed a laugh. “Fine, it happened when I took her to dinner at my favorite restaurant a few weeks ago. We started talking and one thing led to another.”

“Go on,” Cassian gestured a card at him, dealing another round. Rhys nodded his agreement. He thought for a few minutes, revisiting the memory of that night. It still didn’t feel real. Sometimes he wondered if he had dreamed everything.

After collecting his thoughts, he slowly unraveled his story to his brothers, leaving out some of the more precious moments. He admitted to them how terrified he’d been of losing her friendship or making her uncomfortable. He still sometimes worried about those things, but their friendship seemed to have only deepened. A thought that filled him with joy.

“That’s far more romantic than I was expecting,” Cassian teased, easily dodging the playful smack Azriel threw at him. “What? I wasn’t saying that because of you. I just meant it was more romantic than most stories, that’s all.”

“Cas, stop digging yourself a hole,” Rhys chuckled, a smile dancing on his lips. “What about after that? How have things been going?”

“Things are good,” Azriel began, mulling over his answer. “Really good. We’re both busy, so I don’t see her as much as I would like, but we make it work. It’s mostly late-night dates and lunches or other things when we both have time.”

“So, are you moving slow in the physical department or?” Cassian asked, leaving his question open ended. Rhys raised his eyebrows at him over his hand of cards. Azriel sighed, knowing he wasn’t going to get away with not answering.

“Yes, we are moving slow,” Azriel admitted, staring at his cards. “I’m letting Gwyn dictate how fast and far we go. I want her to feel safe with me.”

His brothers smiled at him, reassured he was taking his time with Gwyn. He wouldn’t have it any other way. She needed to be in control of her body. Of what happened between them. He was more than happy to let her take the reigns unless she asked otherwise.

“We have kissed though,” he added, smiling to himself. Cauldron knew how much he loved kissing Gwyn. He normally had to restrain himself to keep from kissing her until they forgot their own names. “She asked me to kiss her about a week after everything happened.”

“That’s good,” Rhys grinned, throwing poker chips into the betting pile. “Especially her initiating it.”

He chuckled softly, folding his hand of cards in defeat. “It took me by surprise when she asked. It was such a strange night to begin with, and then she just blurted it out.”

“I’ve never seen a female shock you,” Cassian stated, once again shuffling the cards. Rhys had won another round. “I want the full story.”

He laughed but began describing the unexpected series of events from that night. They played several more rounds of cards while they talked. He did most of the talking, an unusual occurrence. Talking about Gwyn felt natural, it weakened his normal restraint.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t tell us sooner,” Rhys griped a while later, taking a long drink from his wine glass. “You know we would have been happy for you.”

Cassian nodded his assent, dealing another round of cards. Azriel watched his brothers for a minute, thinking about his response. He hadn’t consciously avoided telling them, but he did have his reasons for not being more forthcoming.

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted to respect Gwyn’s privacy,” he finally explained. “I also wasn’t sure you would be comfortable with it though.”

The last part was only intended for Rhys. Rhys alone knew the stupidity he had almost subjected them all to last Solstice. He had been a depressed, lonely mess and had nearly destroyed friendships and alliances over it. He still regretted it. It was also something he needed to tell Gwyn about. Not now, but eventually.

“As long as your intentions are good, then of course I’m comfortable with it,” Rhys promised, a knowing glint in his eyes, his words threaded with double meaning. He understood what Azriel was worried about and was assuring him there was no ill will. “I can see your feelings are genuine. In fact, I’ve never seen you so happy.”

Azriel gave him a rare smile as he picked up his cards, his concerns quickly fading. What had happened was in the past, no need to dwell on it now. Everything had worked out, despite his foolishness. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was.

“I also fully support you, even if I have no idea what you two are silently saying,” Cassian teased. His brother had long since gotten used to him having double-edged conversations with Rhys. “However, since she is Nesta’s best friend, if you hurt her, I will be obligated to play the protective big brother. So, please, save me the trouble of kicking your ass.”

“You couldn’t kick my ass if you tried,” Azriel laughed, kicking Cassian under the table. “But I promise, I will try to save you from big brother duties.”

“Good, I don’t want to get banished from my own bedroom because of you,” Cassian responded, eyes dancing with mirth. “Nesta would have both our asses if Gwyn gets upset.”

Azriel and Rhys laughed in agreement, both knowing just how accurate Cassian’s statement was. Nesta was the real threat, not Cassian. Even Emerie likely posed more of a threat.

They played one last round of cards before they decided to call it a night, all three of them eager to return to their respective partners. As he prepared to winnow Cassian and himself back to the House of Wind, Rhys stopped him.

“Az, I really am happy for you,” Rhys quietly told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You know that, right?”

“Yeah, I know, Rhys,” Azriel assured him, feeling the full weight of Rhys’ words hit him. This was real. Gwyn was his. Completely his. He could laugh and smile and tell his brothers about her as much as he wanted. He wasn’t the odd male out anymore.

Rhys smiled at him, then winnowed, leaving Azriel and Cassian standing outside. Cassian threw an arm around his shoulder, affectionately bumping into him.

“How about we get home to those pretty females, Az?”

Azriel let himself smile in response, then winnowed them back to the House of Wind, excited to spend the remainder of the evening with one very pretty female in particular.

*****

The sounds of giggling greeted Azriel and Cassian as they approached the private library. Azriel’s shadows darted out in front of him, eager to see their favorite, teal-eyed beauty again. Cassian reached the library doors before he did, swinging them open and abruptly stopping.

“The one night I stay somewhat sober is the night these two get drunk,” Cassian shook his head in shock as Azriel came up beside him. His eyebrows rose in amusement as he took in what Cassian was referring to.

On the floor amid a pile of pillows and blankets, giggling hysterically, were Gwyn and Nesta. They were drunk. He couldn’t help but laugh. He had never seen Gwyn like this before. She was all flushed and smiling. It was adorable.

“Well, looks like our plans for the night have changed,” Cassian clapped him on the shoulder. “How about we get these two safely tucked into bed…by themselves?”

Azriel nodded his agreement, following Cassian into the private library. As they approached, the girls finally took notice of them. Nesta jumped to her feet, almost spilling a cocktail in the process, and immediately ran into Cassian’s arms for a hug.

Gwyn tried to stand but seemed to struggle. She quickly gave up, staying on the floor as she smiled at the couple. If Azriel had to guess, he was fairly sure he knew which one of the two females in the room was tipsier. And it was not the one currently hugging his brother.

“Hello, Gwyn,” he greeted her, trying to hide his amusement. Her eyes shot up to him, apparently just noticing his presence. She tried to stand again but failed. He bit back a laugh.

“Hello, Az,” she hiccupped, her face breaking into a wide grin.

“How are you, Gwyn?” He asked, slowly smiling at her, unable to hide how amused he was. She looked so damn cute.

“I missed you,” she pouted, jutting out her bottom lip. Gods help him, he wanted to kiss that adorable pout. “You were gone for so long.”

“I’ll try to be home sooner next time, Bird,” he laughed, unconsciously using the pet name his shadows had given her. Cassian’s deep voice interrupted him before he could say more.

“Az, I’m taking this one to bed,” his brother told him, Nesta still clinging to his chest, starting to doze now. “Are you going to be alright taking care of Gwyn?”

He looked back at the female in question, still happily plopped on the floor among the pillows. She shouldn’t be difficult to usher to bed. He hoped. His plans were immediately crushed by Nesta, who lifted her head from Cassian’s chest to look at him.

“You can’t go into the priestesses’ dorms,” Nesta slowly spoke, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She must have had rum; it always made her tired. Maybe that was why Gwyn was so tipsy. “Males aren’t allowed down there, and I don’t think she’ll make it on her own.”

Shit. He had completely forgotten about that rule. And Nesta was right, Gwyn was too drunk. He didn’t trust her to make it down the hallway, let alone the library stairs. He looked to Cassian, silently asking him what to do now. He couldn’t very well take Gwyn to his room.

“What about a guest room?” Cassian suggested, lifting Nesta into his arms as he spoke. “We have plenty.”

“Do you think she would be comfortable with that though?” He questioned, not wanting Gwyn to wake up scared in the middle of the night.

“She’s slept in one of the guest rooms before,” Nesta replied, clearly trying not to fall asleep. “Put her in the one down the hall from you. She’ll be okay. I promise.”

With that, Nesta closed her eyes, seeming to decide she had said enough. He looked at his brother again, needing Cassian’s reassurance. He was completely out of his element.

“Az, I don’t think there’s a better option,” Cassian said, shrugging his shoulders. “Besides, she seems to be a happy drunk. I think she’ll be fine. If you’re that worried, I can come back and carry her after I drop off Nesta.”

He looked back at Gwyn, who had sat through their conversation without question, serenely smiling up at him. He could handle this. It would be fine. She was just a tipsy female; he had dealt with worse.

“No, you’re right, we’ll be fine,” he assured Cassian, running a hand through his hair in nervousness. “Get your mate to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Alright, good night, Az,” Cassian said as he turned to leave. Azriel watched him walk out before turning around to deal with the remaining female in the room.

She beamed up at him again, not a trace of worry on her face. Cassian was right, she was a happy drunk. He chuckled slightly, then squatted down to her level.

“Gwyn, how about we get you to bed?” He gently asked her. “I can take you to a guest bedroom to sleep. Is that okay?”

“No,” she unexpectedly replied, face turning serious. “I don’t want to sleep.”

He blinked. What had he done wrong? Did she not want to go with him? She was looking at him adoringly two seconds ago, surely he couldn’t have screwed up that quickly.

“Gwyn, it’s late,” he tried reasoning with her, the wine in his own system making his thought process slower than normal. “You need to sleep.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she insisted, staring at him steadily. She was still flushed from the alcohol, but her eyes were perfectly clear. Was he missing something?

“Gwyn, honey, please, it’s really late,” he softly coaxed her, hoping she would cooperate with him. “I’m just going to take you somewhere you can sleep.”

“I don’t _want_ to sleep,” she repeated, shaking her head and beginning to pout. Maybe he should try a different tactic. He couldn’t just leave her here.

“Okay, fine, you don’t have to sleep,” he countered. “But what about just sitting in bed. Would that be okay?”

“You promise I don’t have to sleep?” She asked quietly, looking at him with the most trusting face he’d ever seen. He was definitely missing something. Why was she so against sleeping?

“I promise,” he assured her, running a thumb across her cheek, “Just let me tuck you into bed. That’s all.”

“Okay,” she finally agreed, pout slowly disappearing. “But I want you to carry me.”

“I can do that.”

He stood up, gently pulling her up with him. She wobbled but managed to stay on her feet with his support. He placed an arm around her waist and bent to lift her behind the knees, but she pulled away, almost falling in the process.

“No, not like that,” she whined, pout returning in full force as she steadied herself. “I want a piggyback ride.”

“Gwyn, I have wings…”

“So?”

He let out a sigh but didn’t argue further. He turned around and bent down, letting her have her way. He flared his wings out enough to give her room as she wrapped her arms around his neck, nestling into his back. He turned his head to look at her.

“If you want to be carried like this, I’m going to have to grab your legs,” he explained, wanting to make sure she was comfortable with it first. “Is that okay?”

She nodded with a smile. He tried not to think about where his hands were about to be resting as he silently reached behind himself to pull her onto his back. She obediently wrapped her legs around him, helping him get a grip on her.

As he adjusted their position, she let out a contented sigh, resting her head against the back of his neck. He smiled to himself, mildly amused at the situation. He had hoped to spend the evening close to her, but he hadn’t imagined it going quite like this.

He carried her to the guest room Nesta had indicated earlier, his shadows opening the door for him. She didn’t say anything as he walked to the bed and pulled back the blankets. But as he turned around to set her down, she yanked on his hair.

“Owww,” he exclaimed, almost dropping her in his shock. “What was that for?”

“I can’t sleep in these robes,” she explained. “I need to change.”

“Gwyn, I am _not_ undressing you,” he firmly stated. He was not about to cross that line while she was drunk. Absolutely not. Even if she begged him.

“I’m not asking you to undress me,” she sighed, seeming exasperated by his apparent lack of understanding. “Carry me to the bathroom and I can do it myself.”

He doubted her current abilities to change without injury but did as she asked. He set her down on the edge of the tub and walked to the door, not wanting to see how she planned to achieve her goal. A set of pajamas, provided by the house, had already appeared by her side.

“Can you carry me out when I’m ready?” She asked as he was about to close the door on her. The alcohol seemed to be fading some from her system. She seemed more tired now. Maybe she would sleep after all.

“Yes, I can carry you,” he assured her. “Call me when you’re ready.”

He waited for several minutes outside the door, listening to her quietly humming something to herself. He was aware she sung, but he had never heard her. He wondered what she sounded like. Her humming alone was lovely, so her singing voice must be jaw-dropping. He closed his eyes, almost drifting off to her charming tune.

“Okay, you can come in now,” she called out, stopping him from completely falling asleep on his feet. He turned to open the door but stopped. He shouldn’t take any risks.

“I’m about to come in, Gwyn,” he told her, the words sounding like a question. “Are you completely decent?”

“Yessss,” she dragged out, annoyed with him. He chuckled softly. “I am decent.”

He accepted her response and walked into the bathroom. She was perched on the edge of the tub where he had left her, dressed in a matching cobalt blue set of pajamas. Despite being tipsy and clearly tired, he couldn’t help but think how beautiful she looked. A part of him wished this was his room and this was a normal night. He would happily share his space if he got to see this drowsy, ruffled side of Gwyn more often.

She let him carry her bridal style this time, wrapping her arms around his neck tightly. He set her down on the bed and tried to pull away, but she clung to him, refusing to release her hold.

“Gwyn, you need to let go,” he gently tried removing her hands, but she wouldn’t budge. He sat on the edge of the mattress, forced to lean over her. He studied her face, surprised to find she suddenly looked on the verge of tears. “Gwyn, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t want to sleep,” she whimpered, bottom lip trembling, eyes pleading with him. “Please don’t make me sleep.”

“Gwyn, I’m not going to make you do anything,” he soothed her, fear striking him. What was wrong? Had he done something? Was she scared of him? “Bird, it’s okay. You’re safe.”

“I’m scared,” she admitted, tears welling in her beautiful eyes. His stomach clenched. “I don’t want to have a nightmare again.”

His eyes went wide, slowly understanding what was wrong. He gently brushed her hair back, gently stroking her face. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to take her fear away? He couldn’t control what she dreamed about, even though he desperately wished he could.

“Gwyn, honey, it’s okay,” he tried reassuring her, his heart breaking. He hated that she was so scared. “I promise, you’re safe. Nothing can hurt you here. I won’t _let_ anything hurt you.”

“Don’t leave me,” she pleaded, a few tears escaping. He gently brushed them away. “Please stay with me. I don’t want to have bad dreams.”

He was in agony. He didn’t know what to do. He was no stranger to nightmares; he had had plenty himself over the years. Thankfully, they were few and far between now, but still. He understood the terror they could hold, the fear the idea of sleeping brought.

“Gwyn, I won’t leave you,” he promised, placing a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.”

“Do you promise?” She pressed, her lovely voice breaking.

“I promise, I will stay with you,” he vowed, desperately wishing there was something else he could do to take away her pain. “How about I bring a chair over by the bed?”

Her face was still clouded with fear, but she released her hold on him, letting him walk across the room to pull an armchair over. He sat down, leaning forward to continue stroking her face. He allowed his shadows to try comforting her as well, giving in to the request they had been silently making. They were as worried as he was.

“Gwyn, why don’t you try closing your eyes?” He whispered, trying to think of anyway he could help her feel safe enough to sleep. “I could talk to you for a while. To keep the bad dreams away. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” she pitifully nodded, staring at him so earnestly it made him want to cry. She trusted him so much, but there was nothing he could do to control her dreams. “But please don’t leave. Even if I fall asleep.”

“I promise, I won’t leave you, Bird,” he consoled her, using his shadows’ pet name again. He liked it. Maybe he would start using it more. “But close your eyes, try to relax. Okay?”

She followed his command, letting her eyes drift shut. She held onto his arm, not letting him pull away even if he had wanted to. He watched her for a moment, heart aching to find any way to comfort her more. This was not how he had imagined tonight ending, but at least he was with her. At least she didn’t have to face her nightmares alone.

“Is there anything specific you want me to talk about,” he asked, suddenly not sure what to say. Would his voice sooth her at all? She shook her head in response, forcing him to decide on his own. “Hmmm, how about our first trip into Velaris, your first time in the city? I don’t think I’ve ever told you how honored I was that you let me take you.”

A peaceful smile appeared on her face, easing some of the tension in his body. Maybe talking to her would help. It was worth a chance. He continued on, hoping his words would help her sleep without nightmares plaguing her.

“I remember watching you pace back and forth in the hallway, waiting for you to notice me. But you didn’t. I had to catch your attention. You looked so scared, yet so determined. I remember that was the first time I realized how much I loved your fiery determination. I hadn’t quite realized I liked you as more than a friend yet, but _damn_ – you impressed me so much. You showed so much strength and bravery that day. I’ll never forget how you cried when I first set you down in the city. I thought I was going to have to take you straight home, but you just grabbed my hand and asked me to show you my favorite places.”

He paused, losing himself in memory. Looking back now, he couldn’t believe he had ever tried to convince himself they were just friends. She had been so much more than that, even then.

“We spent hours just wandering around. I hadn’t done that in years. I felt so happy, Gwyn. _You_ made me so happy. Watching you take in everything around you with such awe – you blew me away. I couldn’t stop looking at you. And you just clung to my hand the whole time, not showing the slightest sign of disgust. That was the first time I think I’ve ever let someone touch me like that. I’ve always been so scared to touch people.”

He trailed off, realizing just how true his words were. He had never let anyone touch him the way he let Gwyn. In the bedroom was one thing, it was different. But normal, everyday affection was foreign. He had never opened himself in that way. There was always a feeling of shame he associated with his hands, not just of his scars but of what he had done with them. And most people shied away from his touch once they felt his scars. All except for a precious few people.

He looked down at her, about to say something else, but he found her asleep. Her face softly nestled into the pillow, a look of serenity on her lovely face. Her hands had slipped from his arm without notice, falling to her side. She looked utterly peaceful.

He smiled to himself, leaning back in his chair. Perhaps she would sleep without nightmares tonight, he hoped. If his talking had somehow helped her find rest, he would gladly spend every evening from now on in this exact position. He leaned his head against the back of the chair, watching her sleep. Before long, his eyes shut. As he slowly drifted into a restful slumber, his mind filled with pleasant dreams of the female beside him, unaware that she was dreaming of him too.

_Note: The next chapter will be a flashback of Gwyn’s first visit to Velaris._


End file.
